Enter The Light
by The TurquoiseCow
Summary: Next in the series. Read after In the Dark. After the defeat of the Kaiser, what is next? The Light, but it will be a long journey before it arrives. Will the Chosen survive until it does? [Final Chapter: Departures]
1. Silent Arrival

Enter The Light  
  
**Part one: Prologue:** Silent Arrival  
  
###  
  
Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Plot belongs entirely to _moi_, although some is borrowed from the original series. Characters belong entirely to Toei Animation, etc.   
  
Reminder: This is the next part in a series. If you read this and don't understand what's happening, it's advised that you read **The Dark Bandit**, and then go on to read **The Reign of Courage** and **In The Dark**. This story will make much more sense if you do.  
  
Thank you, and enjoy.  
  
###  
  
In a small, grassy area to the east of the main roadway, the snow fell silently on the soft grass and bare-leaved trees. Any digimon in the area had migrated to warmer climates or taken shelter from the cold winter snows, which even at the end of season were thick and difficult to travel.  
  
Hidden beneath the accumulated precipitation was a small wooden object with a few markings on it.  
  
A solitary figure, clad in a thick woolen cape and hood, shimmered into existence a few paces from the object. It shivered in the cold, rubbing its hands along its arms to warm itself. A pair of blue eyes peered from under the hood, searching for something within the snows. They came upon the wooden object.  
  
A few hesitant swipes at the sign and the snow was felled, revealing the dark markings in the wood. Aloud, the traveler read the words. His voice was only a whisper, and yet it echoed in the silence of the winter.  
  
"The Village of Firsts."  
  
Something was gone from him, and yet something still remained, for he could sense the ancient boundary as he never could before. Hesitantly, he lifted a hand to where he sensed the invisible wall was built, and though he could not feel it, the hairs upon his skin sensed now that they were passing through something unseen.  
  
He stepped back, his boots crunching in the fallen snow, his hand pulling back as though he had touched something very cold - or very hot. In truth, the sensation was neither, and it was fear that coursed through his veins and filled his blood - the first emotion.  
  
"If I am unworthy...," he muttered softly. The wind fluttered past him, gently, shifting the folds of his cloak. He wrapped his arms around himself again and took another step back, head bowed in miserable defeat. A single tear rolled down his cheek and dropped into the snow, a silent drop.  
  
Suddenly, the wind increased in strength and speed, and rushed past him as though trying to blow him off the ground. He held his ground, planting his feet in the snow and pulling the cloak tighter around him. In the distance, he thought he could hear a loud rumbling sound. Hope entered his mind, warmed his heart, but another part of him smashed it down. It was not yet time.  
  
The Primary Village was the same as he recalled, dimly, through the fog of his spell-clouded mind. The calming pastel colors, the large cubic shapes arranged in piles, even the rows of eggs and tiny baskets along the ground. For a brief moment, he forgot his sorrow, and felt relief in this childlike place. Relief. Another feeling for his mind to process.  
  
"Have you come to destroy us, then?" asked a small, squeaky voice, and he observed a tiny digimon, perched upon the edge of one of the cubes that were scattered about. It was a Nyaromon, and it was staring at him with accusing eyes.  
  
"No," he answered, uncertain of how he ought to reply.  
  
"And why not?" questioned a different squeaky voice, this time from a small Yukimibotamon, on the ground at his feet. "You destroyed nearly all of us, why not the rest?"  
  
For a long moment, the visitor was silent, thinking of a reply. "I don't want to destroy any longer," he answered. "I never wished to destroy, really...I...."  
  
The Nyaromon and the Yukimibotamon both waited for a moment, watching as he tried to collect himself.  
  
The words failed him. Suddenly feeling quiet exhausted, he sank to the ground, deprived suddenly of the strength to hold in the tears. "I'm sorry," he said, at first in a hoarse whisper, and then in a louder voice. "I'm sorry," he repeated, over and over again, never feeling as though it was enough.  
  
The two digimon watching him said nothing, did nothing, only waited and watched until the tears had dried up and there were only sniffles. Then the Nyaromon spoke: "You were Chosen, and you failed in your duties."  
  
"What?" he questioned, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Chosen for what?"  
  
"Chosen as guardian of the defenseless," the Yukimibotamon squeaked out. "Defenseless humans, defenseless digimon."  
  
He pondered this statement for a moment, while he rubbed the tears from his eyes. "I was," he said then, as though recalling a long-forgotten memory. With his right hand, he removed the strange device from his pocket. It was not the tiny, pale blue box he had first received, though. Now it was twisted, mutated, and black. He dropped it, afraid it still contained evil.  
  
"The darkness took you," Nyaromon told him. "But you have escaped, it would seem."  
  
"There is still good in you," the Yukimibotamon said, optimism in his voice. "Look again."  
  
Once more he reached into the pocket of his pants and this time removed a tiny, rectangular object. It was pink, and there was a carving of a flower on it. "What is this?" he asked.  
  
At the touch of it, the sight of it, the memory returned to his mind. Wormmon, slowly deleting, dissolving into nothingness. The light that had surrounded the small caterpillar as he disappeared.  
  
Afterward, he'd wandered through the desert for what seemed like years, lost in a haze of confusion. He'd somehow returned to the same spot, and it was there that he'd found this tiny pink object. And it was then that he'd decided to come to this village, if it would have him.  
  
"It is your strength," Nyaromon answered. "It is all the good inside you. You have escaped the darkness, but it has not been destroyed. And you are not released from your duties."  
  
"Duties?" he echoed. "Of...guarding the defenseless? But how?"  
  
SOnce you have been Chosen, you are always Chosen."  
  
"What you thought was your weakness is your strength," Yukimibotamon told him. "Use it well."  
  
"But - but how can I be a Chosen still?" he questioned. "I don't understand."  
  
Nyaromon snorted dismissively. "We are not the digital gods, and so we do not have all your answers," the tiny digimon replied. It looked toward the digivice he'd tossed to the ground. "You still posses everything required."  
  
"Don't worry," Yukimibotamon added encouragingly. "You'll succeed."  
  
###  
  
Miyako had been quite honestly astonished with how much the past few months had changed her sister's appearance. Momoe, now quite pregnant, was much larger than she'd last remembered, and had a rather extensive collection of baby clothes she'd knitted and sewn to prepare for the baby's arrival.  
  
"I had some help," the elder of the sisters explained when Miyako expressed her surprise at the pile of garments. "Mimi, Sora, and Jun helped me. It was a bit better than simply sitting around worrying."  
  
"Sitting around worrying?" Miyako echoed. "Oh, you needn't have worried." She waved a hand in a dismissive gestured and laughed, but turned aside. The truth was that Momoe would have had much to worry about if she'd known anything at all.  
  
"I shall worry about you no matter what," Momoe replied. "Especially when Mother knows too little to worry about."  
  
Miyako sighed and bowed her head regretfully. "I ought to have told them something, I suppose," she admitted.  
  
"Something would have been nice," her sister agreed. "Though I cannot blame you for keeping silent. They hardly would have understood." She shook her head. "I can't say that I understand anything, myself."  
  
"I'm not sure any of us do."  
  
###  
  
"She's gone where?" Daisuke echoed. He stood in the doorway of Koushiro's laboratory (it didn't seem safe to venture further) and stared in disbelief at the wizard.  
  
"It was your idea, if I recall," the elder Chosen replied, only half visible behind a book. He looked up from the giant volume for a moment. "She came to me and told me that you were both concerned for Lady Ichijouji, and that it might be best to try to explain things to her. I helped her to understand as best I was able, and then we worked out how to explain this to Lady Ichijouji without upsetting her terribly."  
  
Daisuke sighed, groaned, and then sighed again. "I didn't mean for her to go there on her own," he answered, shuffling his feet. "I thought a letter might have worked. And why hasn't she returned? It's been more than a week."  
  
"It's possible she might have decided to stay longer, to assist Lady Ichijouji, to comfort her." Koushiro returned to his studies. "If you're wise, you'll follow her, tell them what's happened."  
  
"That would work best if I could understand what's happened."  
  
###  
  
Iori stood at the window, peering down at the village at the foot of the castle. Many years before his birth, the village which bore the name of the kingdom had been a bustling city, filled with people, marketplaces, banks, and schools. By the time the youngest of the Chosen had arrived at the palace, however, Yagami City had become only a tiny village. The schools and banks were shut down, the marketplaces gone bankrupt or devoid of any sellable goods, the people mostly gone.  
  
Apparently, the winter had been a busy time here, because now he could catch a glimpse of several construction projects taking shape below despite the cold and occasional snows of the past months.  
  
"It's astounding," he stated simply.  
  
"It is," Hikari agreed. She turned her head to face her brother, who was surveying the landscape as well. "How did you manage it?"  
  
"It was discovered that no one wished to live in a place that is ugly," Taichi replied. "So, I decided that the best way to urge people to live in an ugly place would be to make it look nicer. Of course, this took money, but I expect that the investment will pay off."  
  
Sora, who had apparently assisted in some way or another with these plans, was grinning widely. "What he means is that a few nicer roads, a few banks, and some loans to villagers who desperately needed home repairs made the place look quite a bit nicer," she translated.  
  
"Therefore, more appealing," Iori finished. "Already it seems as though people have decided to move and build, and I'm certain that the spring will bring more."  
  
###  
  
"Enough talk," Nyaromon said impatiently. "I'm certain you didn't come here for our conversation."  
  
"What you seek is over there," Yukimibotamon added, grinning. It had no arms nor legs, but it could point with its eyes, toward a patch of land where a dozen or so eggs had recently appeared.  
  
He turned his head to see the place, and then turned back, but the two digimon had disappeared. Without bothering to ponder long on that, he stood and walked, hesitantly, to the eggs.  
  
When he reached the spot, he stared blankly at the tiny, pastel colored objects with a sense of confusion. "_They're defenseless,"_ he thought to himself, remembering what the Yukimibotamon had said to him.  
  
One of the eggs appeared ready to hatch. A tiny crack had appeared in the side, and it began to rock back and forth. The crack slowly grew larger, until the shell of the egg fell away and deleted, leaving a tiny green digimon in its place.  
  
"Hello Ken," said the small creature.  
  
###  
  
Daisuke was packing, throwing all manner of clothes, shoes, and any other item he might find useful into a trunk. He wasn't bothering with things such as folding or placing, he was simply tossing the objects haphazardly. As he did so, he mumbled to himself under his breath.  
  
"Are you leaving?' a voice questioned from his open doorway, and he paused long enough to glance up and see Hikari.  
  
"Yes," he said. "I have to. My sister - she's gone to speak to Lady Ichijouji...."  
  
"And you want to go and be with her," she finished. "I understand."  
  
Daisuke paused in his actions, holding a shirt in his hand, and took a deep breath. "I don't envy her," he said then. "Either of them, really."  
  
"Do you think he'll return?" Hikari asked. "From - wherever he has gone?"  
  
He tossed the shirt into the trunk, which was by now mostly overflowing, and sighed. "I don't know," he answered after a moment's thought. He shrugged, then turned away from the trunk to open the door of a wardrobe that was leaning against the wall. "I think that at the end there, he seemed like himself again, or at least less like the Kaiser. I don't know where he's gone, though, or what he's thinking now." He sighed, rummaging through the wardrobe. "I used to be able to guess, but then things changed and then things changed more, and now I haven't a clue."  
  
She said nothing, only watching him as he continued to rummage through the wardrobe, occasionally pausing to toss out a shirt or some other piece of clothing, which landed on the top of the pile. After a moment's thought, Hikari shook her head at his carelessness, and went to the trunk. She emptied it, and then began to fold the clothing and place it neatly inside the container. "Will you leave today?" she asked.  
  
"Tomorrow," he replied, head still buried within the wardrobe. "Too late now, nearly dark already and not safe to travel, especially in the cold." He tossed a pair of pants over his head, and they landed on the bed beside the trunk.  
  
Hikari carefully folded a shirt and set it atop the pile. "Are you going to stay long?"  
  
"I hope not," he answered, voice still muffled. "I don't know what else there is to be done, and if at least one of us doesn't return before the spring planting, I expect my father will have a few words to say." There was a pause, and then he mumbled: "Where is it?"  
  
"What are you looking for?"  
  
"A book," Daisuke answered vaguely. He sighed, guessing that the object of his search was not in the wardrobe, and thus extracted his head. He turned and caught sight of Hikari's actions. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Folding," she answered simply. "You never would have fit all of that," she gestured toward the pile, "into this trunk. What's so important about a book?"  
  
"I m not sure."  
  
"Well, perhaps this is a ridiculous suggestion, Daisuke, but it might possibly be on the bookshelf." Hikari gestured to the unit which stood against the wall opposite the wardrobe. He turned and stared as though he'd never before noticed that particular piece of furniture.  
  
###  
  
Despite the cold and the light flurries of snow that had begun to fall, Yamato was showing his brother the improvements to the village turned city first hand. Wrapped warmly in coats, hats, mittens, and scarves, the two brothers traversed the streets, admiring the construction projects, but with their minds actually far distant from the place they were now in.  
  
When all the new buildings had been pointed out and commented on, they fell into a comfortable silence, each alone with his own thoughts. Their boots crunched in the dusting of new snow. As they trekked back to the palace, Takeru paused in his steps and turned back toward the town. A cold breeze blew past him, and he shivered, shoving his hands down into his pocket.  
  
Yamato was a few steps beyond his brother when he noticed that Takeru's footsteps were not behind him. He turned and took the few steps back to where he had left him. "Must be strange, eh?" he said then. Takeru turned, curious, so he elaborated. "To see such development after so long in the woods, alone?"  
  
The younger brother sighed, shrugging slightly. "I suppose," he answered after a moment of thought. "I just look at these villages and towns and cities now and think how lucky it is that they weren?t destroyed by Chimeramon." His mind filled with images of flaming buildings, panicked villagers, and one huge flying monster soaring overhead, screeching his anguished rage. He shivered, though not from the cold.  
  
Yamato, who had never seen the monster his brother spoke of, was silent for a long moment as he considered his words. "Let's hope we are always so successful against our enemies."  
  
###  
  
Miyako left her sister with her knitting and wandered down the hall, alone with her thoughts and the silent calm. She was going to her room to think and to study as best she might, when she heard a triumphant "Aha!" come from one of the rooms.  
  
Curiosity got the better of the young mage, and she turned her head toward the noise, then went and tapped lightly on the door from which the sound had come.  
  
Hikari opened the door as Daisuke was busy searching through the book for some particular page. Miyako peered around the door frame, astonished to find him engaged in some scholarly pursuit, but more astonished by the sudden, sharp pain in her head which suddenly jabbed like a knife behind her eyes and cased her to flinch as though struck.  
  
Hikari saw the motion and reached a hand out, asking "What's wrong, Miyako?" but even before the words had passed her lips, the pain was gone.  
  
"I - nothing, now," Miyako answered, the pain having completely abated. "I just had a sudden headache, that's all. It's nothing."  
  
"That's very strange," Hikari said, concern written all over her face. She watched as Miyako entered the room and seated herself on a chair that was free of clothing or other objects. "Maybe you ought to sleep?"  
  
"Maybe," the other girl agreed. "But I wanted to know what the triumphant cry was about. Daisuke, cheering about a book? I must know why."  
  
Hikari sighed, shook her head, and resumed folding the haphazard pile still on the bed. "I wish I knew. He spent the longest time searching for it when it was in front of him on the bookshelf and now he's searching for something in its pages that he?s yet to explain."  
  
"I'll find it, just wait," Daisuke mumbled. He lifted his head for a moment. "I'm glad you're here, Miyako, you can help me make sense of it when I find it."  
  
"When you find what?" Miyako asked, and Daisuke began, at last, to explain.  
  
"It's a prophecy, I think," he answered, still turning pages at a fast rate of speed. "It was given to me in the bottom of the Kaiser's tower."  
  
"Given to you?" Hikari questioned in disbelief. "By who?"  
  
He shrugged. "Dunno. He never introduced himself. But let me explain. I entered the tower through the basement - by accident, actually, and into a room filled with books and some other mechanical objects. There was a - a someone there - I don't even know if he was a human or a digimon, because he wore a hood and stood in the dark. He used magic to take this book off the shelf and snow me a page of it, then told me to take the book, because it would be useful. It's a good thing he did, since I don't remember anything about what he showed me." He grinned sheepishly.  
  
"How would you know it when you found it?" Miyako asked, beginning to feel a completely different sort of headache form.  
  
Daisuke only shrugged again. "I'll know it when I see it, I'm sure of it," he answered again, confidence in his voice. A few moments later, however, he reached the end of the book and shut the back cover, shaking his head and frowning.  
  
"There's something odd about that book," Miyako said when he shut it. "Can I see it?" He gave her the book, and when she took it, she could see much more clearly what must have caused the headache she'd felt and the strange feeling she'd had since she'd entered the hallway. Instinctively, she dropped it to the ground, the hand that had touched it already beginning to feel warm to the touch.  
  
"What's wrong?" Hikari asked, sensing the panic that Miyako was trying not to show or feel.  
  
Miyako didn't answer for a moment. She stared at the book on the floor - a large, plain book with a dark leather cover, ancient but otherwise quite ordinary looking. Yet the aura that she could sense around it was dark, and that aura combined with where Daisuke had found it, made her certain that the book must contain spells and prophecies of Dark Magic.  
  
As soon as she had come to that conclusion, Miyako's brain began to spin with ideas. Koushiro would probably be awake still, it was not quite that late, and he would be curious about the book as well. But what would he advise? That the book be destroyed? Why would a book of Dark Magic have been given to Daisuke? Who would have given him such a book? And - to whom would it be useful?  
  
"You'll have to take this to Koushiro," Miyako said finally, standing. "You." She pointed toward Daisuke, lest Hikari have some notion of touching the book. She knew not what would happen if Hikari, possessing of the Light Magic that was the opposite of the Dark contained in the book, touched the object, but she was certain it would not be beneficial. Daisuke, as devoid of magic, had been possessing the book for some time and not been harmed.  
  
"Why?" Daisuke questioned, lifting the book easily. When his hands made contact with the leather cover, Miyako saw that the dark aura flared, but Daisuke appeared unharmed. Another mystery to ponder, but it would be best if none other touched it.  
  
"I cannot touch that book," she answered. "It contains Dark Magic, I can see it, and I can feel it. It doesn't seem to affect you, so you must take it. Take it to Koushiro, though he won't be able to lay hands upon it, either. I don't know what to do with it, but he will."  
  
###  
  
In the lull that followed the defeat of the latest enemy, Koushiro had returned to pursuits that had been neglected during his stay in the wilderness. There were still five hundred and eighty four newly discovered ancient books to search through and prophecies and ancient spells to learn and study. With a fire blazing warmly, a comfortable easy chair positioned in front of it, and a hot mug of tea waiting for consumption, Koushiro was prepared for a night of study, undisturbed by the nighttime quiet. Tentomon rested upon a stack of books, content to study the topmost volume until he fell asleep and napped away the rest of the night.  
  
Unfortunately, it was not to last. The wizard had gotten no further into the book than the first sentence when a cacophony of impatient knocks sounded on the thick wooden door to his laboratory. With a sigh of regret, Koushiro set aside his book and made his way through the clutter and piles to the door, calling "I'm coming," so to ease the mind of whoever wished to bother him.  
  
Daisuke stood in the doorway, holding an ancient but otherwise ordinary looking book in his hands, a look of urgency on his face. Koushiro held out his hands reflexively, to take the book from him, but his visitor pulled the volume closer to his chest. "No!" he said, sharply, as though he were concerned the book would be damaged. "Miyako says you mustn't touch it."  
  
Confused, Koushiro stepped aside to admit his visitor. "Then why do you bring it to me?" he asked.  
  
Miyako herself, and Hikari as well, appeared in the doorway. "It has Dark Magic in it, Koushiro," the young mage explained. "It was given to him."  
  
"Given to him? By whom?" the wizard questioned, and Daisuke was obliged to relate the incident once more. Afterwards, the wizard, rubbing his chin in thought, cleared a few books away from the nearest table and gestured for the book to be placed upon it.  
  
"Do you know what we should do?" Daisuke asked.  
  
"It's been many years since I last saw a book of Dark Magic," Koushiro said after a long pause. "They are rare in these parts, as rare as Dark Wizards themselves. Those who practice the darker magic were never popular with those that ruled this kingdom, for various reasons. If this book was given to you, Daisuke, then we must be wary. You say you don't know who it was that gave it to you?"  
  
"No," he answered, shaking his head. "Do you think they gave it to me in order to be of some help? Or for some other purpose?"  
  
"It's hard to say without knowing who it was that gave it to you," the wizard responded. "And without seeing what they wished you to see. You must find what it was you saw that day, and then we can begin to decide what to do with it."  
  
Daisuke set the book on the table and opened it to a random page. Dark ink filled the pages in a flowing script, but none of it meant anything to him. None of it looked the least bit familiar. He turned the pages, shaking his head. Nothing reminded him of anything. "I don't know if I can," he said, and then shut the book again, turning aside. "It'll have to wait, though. I need to leave in the morning."  
  
"I don't think you should," Miyako disagreed. She stood in the doorway, arms folded, an expression of concentration on her face, eyes locked on the book. "I think that whatever is in that book must be found out soon, and the sooner the better."  
  
Daisuke opened his mouth to disagree, stepping away from the book, but Koushiro interrupted before he could speak. "I agree," the wizard stated. "Whatever the reason behind this gift, it was not given lightly. Whether it be for good or bad, Daisuke, it must be for something, and as such, it cannot wait."  
  
He frowned, turning his gaze back to the book, and now casting a frown in its direction. "But my sister...," he mumbled, then sighed and collapsed into the rickety chair beside the table.  
  
There was a weighty silence in the room which lasted a few moments. Koushiro sighed, as though to say that such things would happen, lifted his cup of tea, and took a sip. Miyako shuffled her feet and looked at the floor.  
  
"Miyako can go instead," Hikari said then, emerging from her own thoughts and causing the others to jump. She'd been so silent that she?d almost gone unnoticed.  
  
"What?" Miyako asked at the same time that Daisuke looked up from the floor with an expression of confusion.  
  
"Miyako?" he echoed. "But - ."  
  
"It's perfect," Hikari answered, pleased with the plan. "Miyako will go in your place."  
  
"But - ," Daisuke began again, and Miyako interrupted this time.  
  
"Yes," she said, nodding. "I will go in your place. It's perfect, don't you see?"  
  
Daisuke appeared hesitant, but it was easy to see that there wasn't much choice and he was obviously outvoted. He shrugged, glanced back at the book, and then nodded reluctantly. To himself he admitted he was greatly relieved at escaping the trip, but this admission was immediately followed by a bit of guilt, which he voiced. "But, she's my sister," he said, in a voice so quiet none of the others noticed.  
  
###  
  
It's begun. Formatting problems solved and all! Reviews, comments, questions, feel free to leave me a note. Either review or send an email. Thanks for reading, stay tuned. 


	2. The Arrival of Cold

**Enter The Light**  
  
**Part Two:** The Arrival of Cold  
  
###  
  
Standard Disclaimer Thingie: _Digimon_, all related incarnations, characters, creatures, logos, profits, etc, are property of various companies, the only one of which I will bother to list here is Toei. I don't work for them, and thus get no money from the creation of this fic. The plot, however, is (mostly) mine, and I am only borrowing minor points and characters to make it work to my satisfaction. In short, don't steal, don't sue. Don't forget to moo. Enjoy!  
  
###  
  
The sun had barely risen, and already Miyako was traveling, a fact which did not put her in the most pleasant of moods. Hawkmon, napping on the opposite seat of the small but comfortable carriage, hadn't bothered to stay awake after they started, but Miyako was filled with nervous energy. She wasn't quite sure what to expect when she arrived.  
  
As she traveled, the young mage peered listlessly out the window of the carriage. With ease, the lumbering Monochromon had traveled through the tiny village-city and were now pulling her along the main road, through an endless expanse of fields, still covered with a light sprinkling of snow. The sun poked through a mass of thick grey clouds overhead, causing the snow to sparkle and shine.  
  
###  
  
Takeru didn't mind the cold, at least not as much as some, and he felt restless remaining inside for too long. Shortly after the morning meal, he wrapped himself in his warmest clothes and set out for a walk. Patamon wasn't particularly pleased about the idea, but was even less pleased with the suggestion that he allow his partner to go out alone, and so he followed.  
  
"See?" Takeru said, encouragingly, as he opened the door. A gust of cold wind blew past them, allowing a few snowflakes to blow off the trees and land at his feet. "It's not that cold."  
  
Patamon shivered from his perch of safety and relative warmth atop Takeru's warm hat, but said nothing. His previous attempts to inform his partner that leaving the palace was foolish, crazy, insane, or just plain silly, had failed.  
  
"That's what you call not cold?" another voice interrupted. "I'd hate to see what you consider freezing."  
  
Takeru turned to find Hikari behind him, arms wrapped around her for warmth. "This?" he said. "This is nothing. "I've felt much colder. Besides, I'm not going far. Just for a walk."  
  
She nodded. "Don't go too far," she advised. "I think that Jyou has his hands full. He said just this morning that if he gets another frostbite patient - "  
  
"He's going to scream, I know," Takeru finished. He, too, had been there for the doctor's morning grumblings at breakfast. "I'll be sure not to freeze." With a casual grin, he ducked out the door, shutting it behind him.  
  
Hikari sighed, shaking her head in amusement. There were footsteps in the hall behind her, and Sora appeared around the corner. "Was that Takeru I heard just now?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, he's gone out. He says it's not too cold, and he has promised not to inconvenience the doctor by freezing," Hikari reported. "Actually, Sora, I'm concerned for him. He seems...more reckless than usual, doesn't he?"  
  
The elder girl considered for a moment. "Reckless?" she echoed. "I don't know. I'd say distant, I think. Did something happen?" She turned, taking a few steps down the hall.  
  
Hikari followed, matching her steps. "Many things happened," she answered after a moment's thought. "I don't know what would cause him to wander off by himself so often, though. I'd ask Miyako, but she's gone. I'd ask Daisuke, but I'm afraid to go near him today. He's not in the best of moods."  
  
"He was never one for books," Sora recalled, chuckling slightly. "What about Iori? Perhaps Iori would have some idea."  
  
###  
  
"Does it seem cloudier to you today?" Taichi questioned when Iori entered. He was peering intently at the sky that could be seen from the window.  
  
"Cloudier?" Iori echoed. "Perhaps a little. Do you think a storm is coming in?"  
  
"I think something's coming," Taichi answered vaguely. "I don't know if it's a storm. Look closely. Do they look darker, to you in any way? Different?"  
  
Confused, Iori set down the papers he had been carrying and ventured closer to the window. He peered through the glass, squinting through the dim light at the clouds. "They just look like clouds, sir," he answered after a moment, shrugging slightly. "Clouds often look dark before a storm."  
  
Taichi meant something completely different from that, but he wasn't quite sure how to explain it. He was still puzzling over the correct words to use when their was a short knock at the door and then Hikari peered in.  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt. Are you busy?"  
  
"No, no," he said, waving her in. "I was just thinking about the clouds."  
  
"Thinking about the clouds?" Hikari repeated. "What's there to think about clouds? They're big, fluffy things that bring rain. Shouldn't you be thinking of more important issues?"  
  
Iori sighed audibly, giving up trying to look busy because there wasn't anything to do at the moment. "He thinks the clouds look different," he reported.  
  
"Different how?" Hikari asked, but neither of them was able to explain. Iori shrugged dismissively, Taichi in a more embarrassed fashion. Hikari sighed. "Well," she said then, patting her brother on the shoulder in an encouraging way. "I didn't come to talk to you about clouds. I wanted to talk to Iori about Takeru."  
  
"What about Takeru?" Iori asked, setting down the paperwork that he'd been vaguely trying to do something with.  
  
"I don't know if you've noticed lately," the princess reported, "but he's been rather distant. Reckless."  
  
Iori started to shake his head, then stopped and appeared thoughtful. "I haven't seen him much lately," he answered after a moment. "Is that what you mean?"  
  
"No one has seen him much lately," Hikari replied. "I wonder if something happened to affect him so. It?s not like him to go wandering off by himself so much."  
  
"Where is he now?" Taichi wondered.  
  
"He's gone for a walk," she answered. At these words, both the others turned to look out the window.  
  
"In this weather?" Taichi asked.  
  
"I don't know what could have affected him, specifically," Iori said, answering the unspoken question. "There was a lot that happened. I do remember though, the incident with the Digitamamon. Do you remember that?"  
  
"Digitamamon?"  
  
Hikari was silent for a moment, considering. Slowly, her expression changed from thoughtfulness to recollection, and then to concern. "I do," she answered. "I wonder if that's what's causing it."  
  
"What about a Digitamamon?" Taichi wanted to know.  
  
###  
  
It was nearly noon, and Daisuke had made no progress in finding whatever he had lost within the book. Each page looked so very much like the one before it that he could not pick out the page he needed by sight alone. He came to the conclusion that it was necessary to actually read each page in the hopes that something would jar his memory.  
  
V-mon had been similarly trying to recollect what the mysterious stranger had said, but, unable to remember, had left his partner to his scholarly pursuits, slipping out quietly sometime not long after breakfast.  
  
The reading was slow. The ancient book had been written by hand, and the old, dark ink that flowed around the flowing script turned to mush before his very eyes. Daisuke lost track of what he had been reading, the words made little sense to him. He began to feel sleepy and light headed. His eyes drooped and he rested his head on the book.  
  
There was an abrupt knock at the door, and he was jolted awake, feeling disoriented. Had he slept? Had he dozed? If so, for how long? It didn't feel like very long, but sleep could be deceiving.  
  
The knock sounded again. Daisuke rubbed his eyes and hoped he didn't appear as though he'd been napping. "Come in," he called, shaking his head to clear it. He looked down at the page before him. It was only the fifth page of the book. Had he read it?  
  
"Have you made any progress?" Koushiro questioned, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"None," Daisuke replied, his expression and tone conveying his frustration.  
  
###  
  
Despite Takeru's claims, Hikari found that it was actually quite cold outside. Even with her warmest wraps, she could still feel the icy grip of the waning winter in all her extremities. She ventured from the palace and crossed the snowy grounds, her boots crunching in the silence. Cold as it was, anyone without need to be outside was inside, and anyone with need to be outside was doing their work quickly. The grounds were mostly deserted.  
  
"Which way did you go?" she wondered aloud to herself. She had hoped to follow his footprints, but there was heavy traffic from this exit, and the ground was a mish-mash of footprints going in every possible direction. Hikari stared at the ground and realized with some reluctance she wasn't likely to determine which ones belonged to Takeru.  
  
That left her with nothing more than a hunch to go on, and so she followed it, heading in the direction of the Monochromon pens. Few Monochromon were likely to be outside in this weather, as they were best suited to much warmer climates, and took shelter in the massive barns built to house them in the cold months. Still, the fences remained, and as Hikari grew closer, she could see that a few Monochromon were lumbering around the yards, searching perhaps for a bit of food buried underneath the snows.  
  
Takeru was there too, leaning over the side of the fence and so lost, either in thought or in simply observing the activity of the Monochromon, that he didn't notice her approach. Hikari watched from a distance and concluded that Takeru was most likely lost in thought, as the large digimon weren't doing much that was worthy of observation.  
  
"Takeru?"  
  
He turned away from the fence, startled by the sound of her voice in the previously still and quiet environment. "I thought it was too cold for you," he said, a teasing sort of grin on his face. Whatever he had been thinking about, Hikari thought, was gone from his eyes now.  
  
She frowned."Cold enough," she answered. "Takeru ? what are you doing out here?"  
  
The playfulness left his eyes, and he turned back to the fence, gloomy once more. "I needed to think, that's all," he said with more casualness than she thought he felt.  
  
"You've been thinking a lot since we returned," Hikari ventured, stepping beside him and leaning against the sturdy wooden fence. "Is something wrong?"  
  
Takeru shook his head, but didn't speak, didn't turn his gaze. There was a long silence that Hikari kept so that he would have a chance to speak. He didn't.  
  
"If you ever want to talk about it...."  
  
"It's nothing," he answered dismissively. "Nothing important." He turned, flashed a brief grin.  
  
"Somehow, I doubt that. Takeru, you've never been one to be so alone. What makes you wander off in the cold now? Don't tell me the Monochromon, because I won't believe that."  
  
There was a silence. Takeru's expression changed from the grin to a more guarded almost-frown. "I'm changing, Hikari," he said then. "We all are, I think. I'm not the same person I used to be."  
  
"None of us are," she agreed. "We're all becoming different because of what has happened to us. Takeru, we can help each other with this. You don't need to go off alone."  
  
He sighed, then opened his mouth to respond. Before he could, however, the sky suddenly became darker than before. The light filtering through the clouds grew even dimmer. A gust of cold wind blew past them. The Monochromon that were outside made grunts and groans of distress and hurried quickly back to the safety of the barns. The trees bent in the strong wind.  
  
"I think a storm is coming," Takeru said. "We ought to head back."  
  
Another strong gust punctuated this statement, and then another, so that it seemed as though the increase in speed was not merely a temporary gust. Within the barns, the Monochromon made panicky noises as the barn creaked in the wind.  
  
"I'm glad we're not out in the woods for this," Hikari called, shouting to be heard over the wind. She ducked her head and pulled her scarf tightly around her neck.  
  
"No, nor in a tent!" Takeru agreed, turning and following her back in the direction of the palace. He held Patamon safely within his arms now, lest his partner be blown away. "We'd be blown away and then left to freeze!"  
  
"We still might be!" Patamon shouted, burying himself deep within Takeru's coat and scarf.  
  
###  
  
Sora and Mimi were at the door, holding it open, awaiting their return. During the walk back, the snow had begun to fall, and by the time Takeru and Hikari dashed inside, it was swirling around in great gusts. All four of them shoved hard against the heavy wooden door to close it against the wind, and then slid the bolt into place.  
  
Takeru shook the snow from his hat and scarf before hanging them both to dry on a hook near the door. He unbuttoned his coat, allowing Patamon to escape, and he did so, shaking the snow from his ears.  
  
"It looks as though you made it back just in time," Mimi said, relief in her voice. She helped Hikari to remove her half-frozen cloak and hood. "Come inside and warm up before you turn to icicles in this cold hallway."  
  
"It came out of nowhere," Takeru said, removing his boots and leaving them to dry in great puddles near the door. "Just, suddenly, the wind picked up and then...."  
  
"It looks as though it may be the beginning of a blizzard," Sora observed. "You were lucky. Much longer and the snow would have blinded you and then you'd have been stranded, maybe not more than two steps from your own door and frozen solid."  
  
###  
  
The blizzard called a halt to whatever subdued activities had been planned for that afternoon. Travelers throughout the kingdom were forced to take shelter as best they could, and many passers-by were forced to wait out the storm in the shelter of the palace. As the storm grew stronger, villagers whose homes were not yet warm enough to withstand the storm were brought to the palace for shelter. More still were lost in the snows.  
  
The afternoon meal was a hurried and chaotic affair. Great cauldrons of hot soup were cooked, tea brewed, stew ladled out into bowls for half-frozen travelers. Everyone who wasn't half-frozen was called out to help serve or cook, and those that were shivered and ate, trying to warm themselves.  
  
Daisuke had been pulled from his reading ? a welcome reprieve, he thought ? and was left the task of gathering blankets from each bed in the palace. With Koushiro's help, the two amassed warm blankets from every bedroom.  
  
The massive hall that served as the throne room was the best place suited for the task of serving and warming those that needed help. Despite Jyou's earlier threat, the doctor issued not a single scream at the sight of the half-frozen patients that awaited him.  
  
By late afternoon, the blizzard still raged, but the flow of travelers did not.  
  
###  
  
Hikari busied herself in the warmest rooms of the palace ? the kitchens. With no medical training but a bit in the way of cooking, she offered her assistance to the cooks there and spent her afternoon stirring soup, cutting vegetables, and helping in any way possible.  
  
Once the food was finished, she helped to carry it out to be eaten and then sat to enjoy her own helping. As she spooned the hearty soup, she glanced around the table at the visitors ? nearly two hundred travelers, stranded due to the storm, and each grateful to be inside, warm and fed.  
  
Somewhere in the middle of her second bowl of soup, she stopped eating and looked around the table again. She felt eyes upon her and saw that Takeru was looking at her with a concerned glance from across the table.  
  
"Is something wrong?" he asked. "You've stopped eating."  
  
"No," she said, pushing her bowl aside. "I'm just...full, now." She smiled, an expression that felt wrong and looked wrong, even to Takeru, and then stood up from the table.  
  
###  
  
There were many rooms in the palace, but not enough to house all the travelers stranded by the storm. Some were given rooms, but the rest had to be content to bed down in the great hall, satisfied that they were not outside in the cold and hungry. The sun set, plunging the outside world into darkness. Anyone who had not made it to shelter before this was likely to freeze in the night.  
  
Daisuke had returned to his studies, a candle beside him as he sat in bed, a sweater wrapped around his shoulders for warmth and the blanket pulled over his legs. He'd made little progress, but it was a job that had to be done, and so he worked at it.  
  
Two or three hours after the ending of the evening meal, there was a soft tap on his door, so soft that he could barely hear it. He looked up from his book, but it didn't sound again, and so he returned, only to be alerted by a second, louder knock.  
  
Reluctantly, he pulled himself from the warm cocoon he'd made for himself, and hurried across the room. Hikari stood in the dark, cold hall, shivering slightly, a blanket over her shoulders.  
  
"I don't mean to disturb your studies," she said, "but, might I come in?"  
  
Wordlessly, Daisuke stepped aside from the door, allowing her entrance. He slipped into the parlor adjoined to his room and returned with two of the comfortable chairs. He set them by the fire, and then they both sat. A long moment of silence passed before he finally asked: "What?s wrong?"  
  
Hikari had been staring, blankly, into the flames. Her shivering had ceased now, but she looked pale in the firelight. She said nothing for a few moments.  
  
"Hikari?" Daisuke asked, certain now that something was wrong. "Are you ill? Are you hurt?"  
  
She took a deep breath, shook her head, and finally pulled her gaze from the fire. "No," she said, "I'm all right. It's Miyako I'm concerned about."  
  
###  
  
And the story continues. Questions, comments, complains? Review, or send me an e-mail. Thanks for reading!  
  



	3. The Roads Less Traveled

**Enter The Light**  
  
**Part Three**: The Roads Less Traveled...  
  
###  
  
Standard Disclaimer Thingie: _Digimon_, all related characters and merchandise are not mine. This plot is. Mostly. Don't steal it. Don't sue me. Read on!  
  
###  
  
The wind was whipping about dangerously, and the carriage had trouble staying upright. Even with no experience in weather-magic, Miyako could sense the storm coming and knew that she'd have no way to avoid it. Trying to stay calm, she poked her head out the window.  
  
The clouds were growing darker by the second, and the wind stronger. Still many hours away from her destination, they were certain to get caught in the brewing storm. "Is there a place to stop near here, to get shelter?" she called to the driver. In the winds, he was having difficulty staying upon his perch atop the carriage.  
  
"None that I know of, milady," he replied. "We passed the nearest village an hour ago, and the next one's not for some distance."  
  
Miyako shivered. The air was growing steadily colder, and flurries were beginning to fall. "What should we do?" she wondered, half to herself.  
  
"We'd best stop at any rate, milady," the driver answered. "If we keep going, the Monochromon are likely to freeze. If it's a bad enough storm, we may lose our way, too."  
  
"It sounds like the best plan," Hawkmon put in. "The winds are strong; we may be in for a blizzard."  
  
"This late in the season?" Miyako wondered, but she couldn?t dispute the evidence ? a storm was definitely approaching.  
  
"Stranger weather has happened, milady," the driver commented. "Shall I find a place to stop?"  
  
"Yes," she answered. "Find a place off the road, as safe as you can, and then come inside this carriage before the snow starts. The Monochromon - ."  
  
"There's not much that can be done for them," he finished. "They're hearty creatures, they may survive the storm."  
  
###  
  
Daisuke felt the blood rush to his head. He leaned back in his chair, suddenly light headed. "I ? I'd forgotten," he confessed, his voice an almost-whisper.  
  
"So had I," Hikari said. She was definitely pale now, and cold, even so close to the fire, wrapped in the blanket. "Do you think - ?"  
  
"No," he answered sharply before she'd finished the question. He sat up, turned to face her, and took one of her hands in his own. Her skin felt cold and clammy to the touch. "Miyako knows how to take care of herself, I'm certain of it. She's survived storms in the wilderness with the rest of us, and she's survived sandstorms in the desert. She's got magic on her side now, don't forget."  
  
"Yes," Hikari agreed, slowly, "but, in a carriage on a road, she'll be defenseless and without shelter. She can put a shield up against the winds, but for how long? And the cold? What good can magic do against that? She'll surely freeze ? possibly have frozen by now, even." She shivered again, and shut her eyes.  
  
###  
  
Miyako awoke shortly after the sun rose, peeking through the ice covered window of the carriage to fall upon her face. She was wrapped tightly in her warm cloak and covered again with a blanket that she was lucky enough to have found stored within the carriage, along with an emergency lantern that had been their only heat through the night.  
  
Hawkmon was already awake, shivering slightly but hopping up and down and flapping his wings in order to warm himself. The lantern was lit, but Hitoshi, the carriage driver, had gone out, she assumed, to check on the Monochromon. His partner, a small and quiet Plotmon, remained inside, dozing near the lantern.  
  
There had been only a little food for them to eat the previous evening ? only what each had brought with them. The trip had promised to be quick and easy, and they were to have arrived in time for the evening meal, so they'd packed the food lightly, and it was only by luck that neither had eaten before the storm began. Thus, they had enough to last through dinner, but not enough for breakfast the next morning.  
  
The carriage door didn't seem eager to open, but a hard shove helped force the matter, and Miyako stepped outside into the glitteringly bright world. She squinted through the sunlight and made her way down into the snow.  
  
Hitoshi was attempting, with little success, to shovel out the wheels of the carriage. He halted his work when he saw Miyako approach, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I don't know that this will make a difference, milady," he said when he'd caught his breath. "The snow is deep."  
  
The snow _was_ deep, coming high enough to cover the wheels, although farther off it seemed to have drifted higher in some places and lower in others. Miyako shivered, rubbing her arms. She looked around, and could see nothing but snow for a fair distance. Sighing, she said: "We can't stay here too much longer. We haven't any food, and it's cold."  
  
Hitoshi nodded solemnly. "We won't get very far on this," he said, gesturing to the carriage. "Unless you know how to get it free. Digging won't work, especially as I haven't got a good shovel." He held up the stick he'd been using.  
  
She sighed once more and massaged her temples, exhausted with the thought of how much magic it might take to melt that much snow. "I don't know that I could get it free," she answered, "and even if I could, we'd hardly be able to go very far."  
  
"The only thing left then is to walk," Hawkmon put in from the carriage doorway. He turned toward Hitoshi. "Do you know how far it is to the nearest village where we might find shelter?"  
  
The stout driver thought for a moment. "On foot, at least an hour's walk or more. It may be too cold to attempt. And it may take longer than that, with how deep the snow is."  
  
"Still, if it's our only chance, then we must do it," Miyako concluded. "Pack everything up you can carry, and let's go."  
  
###  
  
By early morning, the sun was again peeking through the thin cloud cover that remained. When mid-morning came, the sun was again at full strength, and some of the snow was already beginning to melt, causing great lumps of snow to crash to the ground after sliding off of rooftops.  
  
Hikari awoke feeling warmer than she thought she ought to, with a nagging feeling somewhere inside the pit of her stomach. She felt disoriented, and wasn't eager to leave her bed. Slowly, she sat up and was not entirely surprised to discover that she felt a bit nauseous. She laid down again, then, and looked up at the ceiling.  
  
After a few moments, the nausea had abated slightly, and she sat up again. This time, she felt better. Tailmon, sleeping at the foot of the bed, uncurled herself and yawned, arching her back as she stretched, waking. Her big blue eyes blinked in the bright sunlight as she gently combed her tousled fur with her claws.  
  
Slowly, lest the nausea return, Hikari pushed the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The cold air surprised her, as did the wooden floor. She shivered and suppressed an urge to dive back between the blankets again. Laying about wouldn't get anything done, she thought sensibly as she slid her feet into the warm slippers that waited beside the bed. A warm robe was hung on the bedpost, and she pulled it over her shoulders, grateful for the protection it offered against the cold.  
  
"Did you dream?" Tailmon questioned, pausing in her grooming to peer intently at her partner.  
  
"I don't think so," Hikari answered. The soft slippers padded to the large window, and she pulled back the heavy drapes to look at the glistening snow below. Already, the workers had been outside, clearing paths and shoveling the snow so they could get to the Monochromon, and now the paths of bare, dead grass crisscrossed their way through the snow covered grounds.  
  
Hikari released her hold on the drapes, letting them fall back into place and blocking some of the blinding light that reflected off the snow. "If I dreamt anything I don't remember it. I'm not sure if I ought to be pleased."  
  
###  
  
About an hour and a half after they'd started, Miyako began to feel warm, and not because she was exerting herself. She wasn't really. The snow was deep ? it came as high as her knees ? but she walked in Hitoshi's wake and they went slowly so as not to exhaust themselves.  
  
The sun felt stronger, and they could hear the sound of dripping water from the trees nearby. Miyako paused in her footsteps to listen. "Does it feel warmer to you?" she asked of no one in particular.  
  
Hitoshi paused, leaning against the long branch he'd previously used as a shovel and now used as a walking stick. He was quiet for a few moments, assessing the temperature, which he hadn't paid much attention to before that.  
  
"Come to think of it, it does," Hawkmon said. He'd been flying most of the way ? the snow was too deep for him to walk in if he'd wanted to ? but he now landed on the edge of the pack Miyako carried on her back.  
  
"It does feel a bit warmer," Hitoshi agreed, removing his warm, woolen hat. "I hope it doesn't get too much warmer."  
  
"Why not?" his Plotmon partner questioned from where he was, riding in his partner's backpack.  
  
"If it gets too warm then the snow will all melt," the carriage driver replied. "Then we'll have to worry about floods." He shook his head to indicate that this was not a desirable situation.  
  
"How much farther do you think we'll have to walk?" Miyako asked as they resumed their trek.  
  
"Not too much farther, I should think, milady," Hitoshi called back over his shoulder. "No more than another hour. I hope there'll be someone in the village there to offer some food and drink to weary travelers."  
  
###  
  
Takeru had busied himself since midmorning, helping as best he could. He'd offered to assist in the kitchens, but had been turned away on the grounds that no one believed he was capable of producing anything edible.  
  
After the hectic previous day, it was relatively calm in the infirmary, with only the worst cases of frostbite still needing major treatment. The snows slowly began to melt as the sun emerged, and search parties were organized to set out from the palace in search of those who could not be found, in the hopes that they would find living people and not simply bodies.  
  
Come mealtime, however, extra hands were needed for serving, and so Takeru found himself doling out food to the many villagers who needed it. As the snows had begun to melt and travelers began to make their way to the village, those who had stayed behind were in need of food, and so it was decided that the new arrivals should be fed as well.  
  
The endless stream of people slowly began to ebb, and almost two hours after the noon hour had passed, Takeru could finally take some of his own food to eat. He was serving himself when Hikari approached, carrying an empty bowl and examining some soup.  
  
"It's not bad," Takeru informed her, "but this one's better." He gestured toward the pot of soup he was serving himself.  
  
Hikari sniffed the concoction hesitantly, shut her eyes, and then nodded her agreement. "It does smell better," she said, and held out the bowl so that he could serve some. "Has there been any word? Of ? Miyako?"  
  
Takeru had been present that morning when Hikari had told her brother of her concern for the missing Chosen. Immediately, Taichi had decided to send swift flying messengers to Jun and Lady Ichijouji to determine if Miyako had arrived safely.  
  
"Nothing yet," Takeru answered. "I wish there was something that could be done, but with the roads as they are, the snow so deep, it's hardly safe to travel." He sighed, shaking his head.  
  
They walked, carrying their bowls with them back to the dining hall. Now mostly emptied of the hundreds of villagers Takeru had served, there were only a few people remaining ? mostly those who had been working to help to make and serve the food. At the end of one of the long tables, though, was a single figure. A bowl of soup was on the table, another in his hand, and while he ate, he was studying a large volume.  
  
"Have you made any progress?" Hikari questioned, and Daisuke looked up from his soup bowl and his book, shaking his head.  
  
"None," he answered, shoving the book aside for a moment. He almost-slammed his empty bowl down on the table in a frustrated gesture. "Nothing at all. I'd wonder if I hadn't dreamt the whole thing up, except V-mon remembers as much as I do and I don't think we could both have the same dream." He frowned, considering for a moment, and then shrugged it off. "Has there been any word?" he asked, casing a concerned expression in the Princess' direction.  
  
It was Takeru, however, who answered: "None yet."  
  
###  
  
In fact, Hitoshi's estimate was a bit optimistic, as it took nearly two hours of further walking before he and Miyako reached their destination. By the time they'd arrived, the sun had increased its power tremendously, and the snow had begun to melt in great amounts. The snow, which had before come to Miyako's knees ? and therefore causing the lower half of her skirt to be completely soaked with snow ? now barely reached her ankles, and as a result, large puddles were beginning to form. Rather than getting bogged in the snow, they were now bogged down in rather deep mud.  
  
The ground was still frozen ? the warm spell not having been intense enough to thaw it, and so the water simply pooled on the surface of the ground rather than sink in, and so in the places where there was little mud, there were deep puddles.  
  
When Miyako arrived at the tiny village, she was never so happy as to see a few ramshackle huts on the outskirts and a few farmers pulling Monochromon through the mud with great difficulty. It was too warm to wear her mittens, and she discarded the scarf as well, but she kept her cloak on her shoulders, though the heavy material felt far too warm in the increasing temperatures.  
  
"How far do you think we are from Ichijouji Manor?" Miyako questioned of Hitoshi as they sloshed through the river the road had become on the way into the village.  
  
For an answer, the carriage driver squinted in the bright sunlight and turned his head to the west. Miyako followed his gaze. Just beyond the village was a forest of fir trees, and beyond that she could see the dim shape of a building in the distance. "That's it over there, just beyond that forest," he answered. "Ordinarily? It'd take an hour to drive it, maybe two hours on foot. In this mud? We'll be lucky to arrive by nightfall." He shook his head grimly, frowning.  
  
"Excuse me," said a voice nearby. "Did I hear you say you were in need of transportation?"  
  
###  
  
The Chosen who currently occupied the palace gathered to discuss Miyako's situation. A message had been returned from Lady Ichijouji, which reported that she'd had no visitors that day and had received no word on Miyako's location. It was then that Daisuke made a suggestion.  
  
"You what?" Hikari asked, beginning to feel a bit lightheaded.  
  
"Listen, Miyako wasn't even supposed to go in the first place," Daisuke reminded her. "I was. If I had gone, she wouldn't be out there ? who knows where ? who knows if she?s all right or not. Let me go and search for her. If she's alive, I'll find her."  
  
"How would you do that?" Takeru wanted to know. "She could be anywhere, now."  
  
"There aren't that many roads that travel to where she was going," Daisuke replied. "She'd have to be near one of them, right? It won't take long at all to search near them."  
  
"That's possible," Yamato agreed. He stood, leaning against the wall, arms folded, and a skeptical expression on his face. "It's also possible that she's hours from the roads. In a storm like that? The snows become blinding. The driver could have become disoriented and traveled in the completely opposite direction." He glanced toward Iori and Mimi for confirmation ? both were from northern reaches of the kingdom where snows were common in the winter months and storms happened far more often.  
  
"It's true, Daisuke," Mimi stated, a worried expression on her face. She was seated in a comfortable armchair, and she fidgeted as she spoke, her hands fiddling with a chain around her neck. "I've been caught in such storms. It's not possible to see."  
  
"Then the digivice," Daisuke suggested, removing his from his pocket and holding it up as if to prove it existed. "If I get close enough, I'll be able to detect her."  
  
"But what if you never get close enough?" Sora asked. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Like Mimi, she sat, but instead of fidgeting, she?d been staring at her shoes, not really seeing anything that was there. She looked up now, as though snapping out of some sort of trance. "What if you can't get close enough to detect her? The digivices can only sense from so far away."  
  
Koushiro spoke up: "The book, Daisuke," he reminded him, eyebrows raised slightly.  
  
Frustrated, Daisuke clenched the fist that held his digivice. "Well, we must do something," he stated. "We can't just leave her for dead, can we?"  
  
There was a long silence that followed this.  
  
"No," Taichi said, just as Daisuke was about to open his mouth and announce that he was going to go anyway. Every head in the room turned to face him.  
  
"No?" Hikari echoed, blankly, feeling lightheaded again.  
  
"No," Taichi repeated. He leaned back in the chair he occupied. "He's right," he said then, nodding toward Daisuke. "We're hardly going to abandon Miyako if there's a chance she's alive and in need of help. However, I don't think it's wise that only one person go."  
  
"I'm going," Daisuke put in before anyone could suggest otherwise. "If not for me, Miyako would be here, and so I'm going." When Koushiro opened his mouth to speak, he interrupted: "I'll bring the book with me if I have to, but I'm going."  
  
There was a hesitant silence in the room as Daisuke's expression flatly dared anyone to disagree with him. "If you go, then I go," Hikari said then, surprising everyone in the room. "It was my idea that Miyako go in your place. I'm as much responsible for this as you are. I'm going as well."  
  
Taichi sighed a long, suffering sort of sigh, but didn't bother to argue, just shook his head slightly. He glanced toward Yamato just as he stepped forward, not changing the position of his arms.  
  
"I'll go as well."  
  
###  
  
Miyako turned her head toward the voice that asked the question. It appeared to have come from an oversized hat. She blinked a moment, and the hat moved.  
  
"Hello," the voice said. "I am Wizarmon." The hat moved backward, allowing her to view the digimon beneath it. "If you are in need of transportation, I am eager to provide it."  
  
"At what cost?" Hitoshi questioned. "Can we leave today?"  
  
Wizarmon glanced upward. "Depends on where you wish to go. It may be best to leave today, before the snows melt. And, it may be best to leave tomorrow, after you've had some rest. Where do you wish to go?"  
  
Hitoshi pointed one hand in the direction they were headed. "Ichijouji Manor," he answered. He glanced toward Miyako. "We don't need to rest, but it would be best if we found some food before we go. How soon can you be ready to depart?"  
  
As his cloak covered all of his face aside from his eyes, it was impossible to precisely gage the digimon's expression. "Hmm," he said thoughtfully, mostly to himself. "Ichijouji Manor, you say? That's a bit of a haul. No direct road from this village. We'd either need to drive through the forest,? he pointed the direction Hitoshi had previously indicated, "or go back to the main road."  
  
"If we head through the forest," Miyako thought aloud, "then we're likely to have to travel slower than on the roads. The mud will be thick."  
  
"Aye," Hitoshi agreed. "Yet, if we travel back to the main road we may lose more time backtracking."  
  
"All the same, it feels safer to go by the main road," she decided. Turning to Wizarmon, she said, "If you would give us a ride, we would gladly accept."  
  
"I am happy to oblige," the digimon replied.  
  
###  
  
Less than two hours after the decision had been made, the three travelers set off from the castle in search of Miyako's trail. In the interest of speed, they'd decided it best to take along a small wagon, just large enough to carry the needed supplies, but it was decided it was best to travel slowly so that they might not miss any clues from the road. There was little daylight remaining by the time they left the castle, but they were eager to make progress while they could.  
  
Yamato drove, as no one was eager to burden another with the task. Daisuke was relegated to the back of the uncovered wagon in the hopes that he might be able to make a few pages progress on the book. Hikari was left to watch the landscape closely for signs of previous travelers.  
  
As she rode, Hikari began to feel that sun was increasing in power as the day wore on. The evidence of this was easy to see as well as feel. Much of the road had become slush or standing water. As the snow had melted and the temperature steadily rose throughout the day, the frozen ground had begun to thaw, mixing with the snow to make most of the road into thick mud. The going was slow. She began to feel an impending sense of nervousness, and not only for Miyako.  
  
Yamato must have felt it to, for, between his grumbling, cajoling, and shouting at the Monochromon he was silent and sullen, glancing often back in the direction they had come and further north, as though he thought something might be coming. When they'd freed the wagon from the tenth mud puddle in two hours, he climbed back on, heaving a heavy sigh. "Does it feel strange?" he questioned of no one in particular.  
  
"Strange?" Gabumon asked, looking up. He'd been lounging over the edge of the wagon, staring blankly at the horizon and wondering if it might be an ideal time for a nap. His partner's question woke him from his doze. "How so?"  
  
"Warmer," Yamato replied. "Much warmer than it ought to be after a blizzard." He'd already removed his scarf and unfastened his coat. Now, he wondered if he ought to remove the coat as well.  
  
"It does," Hikari answered. She was removing her hat as she spoke, tossing it toward the back of the cart.  
  
Tailmon shrugged, unconcerned. "Spring often brings change, and abrupt change," she reminded them. "Strange weather is normal for this time of year."  
  
"That's true," her partner agreed, "but this feels even stranger." As she spoke, Hikari put out a hand and caught a tiny falling snowflake. Despite the warmth, it didn't melt in her hand for a few moments, and it didn't feel particularly cold.  
  
"More snow?" Yamato asked, noticing a flake fall within his line of vision. He looked up, toward the sky, but it was bright and sunny ? the orange-red sun was slowly sinking.  
  
Daisuke had been trying to concentrate, and had read three more pages without jarring his memory when something fell on the page of his book. He stared at it for a moment before it disappeared, leaving a tiny spot on the paper.  
  
"What's this - ?" he wondered, looking up at the sky. It was blue, with only a wisp of cloud, far up, almost out of sight. He sat, reclining against the wall of the wagon, comfortably wrapped in a warm coat, the blanket he'd been using tossed aside, unnoticed, when he'd felt warmer. He craned his neck backward and caught a glimpse of a few tiny dots in the sky. "Snow?"  
  
A flake landed directly on his nose, as though to confirm his question. He stared at it for a moment. It didn't feel cold to him, only soft and light, and tickled his nose a bit. Then it evaporated, leaving only a tiny wet dot in its wake. He wiped his nose.  
  
"It's too warm for snow," V-mon said, but it didn't seem to matter because the snow was falling steadily now.  
  
Daisuke scrambled to his knees and then to his feet and went to the front of the wagon, reaching it just as the wheels became stuck in some thick mud, bringing the vehicle to an abrupt halt. The Monochromon groaned and whined, straining against their harnesses, and Yamato mumbled a curse under his breath, on the verge of shouting. He let go of the reigns and dropped to the ground in one even leap, heading for the back so that he could push.  
  
Hikari didn't seem to have noticed the stop. She was staring upwards at the sky, watching the snow fall, occasionally putting out a hand to catch a few flakes, as though if she didn't touch them she wouldn't believe they were real.  
  
"Yah!" Yamato shouted before Daisuke could say anything. He shoved, hard, against the back of the wagon, enough to jolt those within, though not to free the wheels from the mud. "Daisuke, get out here and help me!"  
  
The spell was broken. Daisuke winced, but turned and headed toward the back of the wagon. "Should we stop soon, anyway?" he questioned. "It's nearly dark ? we won't find much in the dark."  
  
Yamato glared at him as he dropped to the ground. Through narrowed eyes he asked: "Do you want to stop here and make camp in the mud?"  
  
Daisuke's feet had landed on a soft substance. He looked down and saw that he was up to his ankles in mud, and found himself thankful for boots that rose up to mid-shin. He made a face. "No...," he answered. He pulled his feet free and moved himself to the other side of the wagon, ready to push.  
  
###  
  
Questions, comments, complains, etc? Send an email or leave a review. Thanks for reading, stay tuned! 


	4. Something Evil This Way Comes

**Enter The Light**

**Part Four:** Something Evil This Way Comes

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Characters are not mine, which includes all people, digimon, etc. Plot is, although some parts borrow from the original series. Please, don't steal, don?t sue. Read on, Enjoy!

Hitoshi had found an inn that was open and serving food, and returned with enough to feed them all - including Wizarmon. It served as payment for the transportation, as he had requested. As they sat in the back of his tired-looking but reliable cart, Wizarmon explained his unorthodox request.

"In the past, whenever I'd managed to find work, I always spent the money on food. I need little else to get by. So I have decided that it's best to just have people give me food. More can afford my services that way."

"What types of services?" Hawkmon wanted to know.

"Anything that's asked for," the magical digimon replied. "Sometimes it's entertainment, sometimes it's assistance of some sort, sometimes, like yourselves, it's transportation that's required."

"Entertainment?" Hitoshi echoed.

Wizarmon nodded. "Magical tricks are rather entertaining to most people, and easily worth the price of a meager meal. Light shows, small levitations, making something disappear. Hardly taxing, and always fascinating to those who have seen very little magic." He finished the roll he'd been devouring. "This meal was delicious. Best I've had in weeks. Shall we go?"

The journey was slow going through the mud, even on the well-traveled road, and they had made very little progress by the time the sun went down. Wizarmon didn't mind driving through the night, but Hitoshi was reluctant, and Miyako was in no hurry to arrive. After a bit of debate, it was decided that it would be best to stop for the night.

Only an hour's journey - which would have been a half hour's journey if the mud were not there - from the village they had just left and still far from another, there was no other option but to camp.

Wizarmon halted them quite near to the road, in the driest part of the field. While he tended to the Monochromon, Hitoshi went off to gather some wood for a fire, leaving Miyako to wait. She sat in the back of the wagon, legs dangling over the edge.

The weather had warmed significantly in the late afternoon, but now that the sun had gone down, the chill was returning to the air. Miyako shoved her hands in her mittens and waited for Hitoshi to return so she could warm by the fire.

"I think I have some tea stored away somewhere in there," Wizarmon called to her. "And perhaps a teapot as well. It might be nice on a cold night like this."

"I think it would," Miyako agreed. "Should I search for it?"

A short while later, she'd retrieved both the teapot and the tea from within one of the chests that crowded the wagon. Wizarmon had many possessions, all of which were apparently contained within this wagon. Sacks and chests filled with trinkets, knick-knacks, books, and occasionally something of use littered the walls, managing to give it a homely feel.

Hitoshi returned with an arm load of firewood, and Wizarmon lit a fire with the ease of one who has become accustomed to occasionally using magic to navigate everyday situations. The carriage driver applauded at the spectacle, but Miyako only stared into the flames, lost in a memory of a completely different time and place, unaware that her silence had attracted attention.

As much of the snow was melted, it would be necessary to seek out water. Hitoshi took the teapot and headed into the forest nearby. In the deeper reaches, he explained, the sun had not reached the floor and the snow was more plentiful there. Cheerfully, whistling slightly, he trudged off into the trees.

Wizarmon had noticed Miyako's silence since he'd started the fire. She hadn't responded to Hitoshi's words with any more than a nod, and she hadn't drawn her eyes away from the flames. Curiously, the digimon sat on a rock beside the cart, a dry spot. "Something about the fire bothers you?" he questioned.

"No," Miyako answered, shaking her head. "It's just - it looks strange to me."

"Looks strange?" Wizarmon echoed, intrigued. "How so?" He turned his gaze toward the dancing flames, but they looked ordinary enough.

She pulled her eyes from the fire. "It's - difficult to explain," she answered. "The way you make fire is different, I think."

Wizarmon tilted his head to one side, amused slightly. Although his mouth wasn?t visible, Miyako was certain he was smiling. Certainly his eyes looked it. "That's an interesting way of describing it, I'd say. No one's ever said such a thing before. Usually, I hear gasps of amazement, astonishment. Nothing such as that."

Miyako shrugged slightly, uncertain of how quite to respond. Wizarmon fell silent for a few moments, then nodded.

"I see," he said then. "It doesn't astonish you, does it?" When she made to speak, he held up a hand. "No, let me guess. Does the lady know well someone with magic? Ah, but no, that would be a bad explanation for one who could tell me something about my own technique. What _could_ you tell me?" He narrowed his eyes, questioning, interested.

Miyako shook her head, shrugging again. "Not much, really," she answered. "My knowledge is limited enough that I lack the words to describe what I see very well. Shall I tell you what I sense about you?"

"Ah, ah," Wizarmon said, nodding to himself. "Possessing of magic yourself. I ought to have guessed, yet I didn't. My guard was down. It's not often see spell-casters masquerading as young ladies. You have surprised me, then, and that doesn't happen often. But, yes, tell me what you sense. Or what you see? Can it be that you do possess the sight as well?"

"Yes, I do," she responded, nodding. "I am new to the use of magic, though. I am not sure that I could tell you much that you have not already heard."

"You could tell me quite a bit, milady," he answered. "I have spent many a year wandering through villages and meeting people who knew nothing of magic, and it's been many more years since I met one who had the sight. Please, tell me what you see and surprise me yet again."

"Digimon auras are different from human auras," Miyako stated. "I never saw a magical digimon until today. People - even those with magic - have pale auras, and so do their partners. Yours, however, is intense, more than any I have ever seen. And your magic seems to be of a completely different type than mine." She shook her head as though to clear it. "I wish Koushiro were here, he'd help me understand."

In the dim light of the campfire, Daisuke squinted at the blurred ink on the page, trying to make out the words. He felt tired, hungry, and bored, but he had promised to work at reading the book and so he read while Hikari and Yamato prepared a meal and discussed the next da'?s plans.

Somewhere within the book were prophecies, that much he was certain of, but the page he read that night was filled with spells. The words blurred before his gaze, and the mere thought of reading made him feel exhausted. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"_The spell of enslavement thus binds the subject (afterward known as the slave) to the spell-caster. This spell can only be broken by one who possesses magic, and a slave can only be maintained by a Master who possesses the necessary magical abilities. To create such a binding...."_

"Hey!" Yamato called, interrupting before he could begin to read the details of

the spell. It was time to eat.

With the morning came a new set of clouds that Hikari was certain would worry her brother greatly. She had never seen such dark clouds coming from the North. Though the sun rose, it barely seemed to be day, and the sky was darkened. A cold wind had blown during the long night, and changed all the melted snow into ice. Thus, the roads were even more dangerous than before.

"I don't like the looks of this," Yamato stated flatly when they'd packed up to begin moving not long after they'd awakened. "Something's coming, I'm certain of it."

Gabumon sniffed the air cautiously. Though his nose was not as powerful as Agumon's, it was stronger than any human's. He frowned. "I smell Bakemon."

"Bakemon?" Yamato echoed. "I don't like the sound of that. Bakemon bring evil, don't they?"

"They certainly don't bring roses and sunshine, if that's what they are," Tailmon answered. She was on edge, her big blue eyes watching the horizon, the skies, everything, for signs of movement. Her ears stood on edge. She was poised for battle.

"I wish Miyako were here," Hikari said, sighing. "This _feels_ wrong, and I wouldn't be surprised if magic had something to do with it."

The small green caterpillar digimon sat on a dark tower, now fallen, toppled like a tree. He was waiting, quietly and patiently, for his partner to return.

There was a thin layer of snow, even here, in the early morning. The sun was peeking through distant clouds, glinting against the snow. The forest was silent but for a distant dripping - the sound of melting snow falling from the tree branches.

A figure, clad in a warm, dark-colored cloak and hood, emerged from the forest behind the fallen tower. His expression was grim; his arms were empty.

"Nothing?" asked the small green digimon.

His partner shook his head. "No," he answered solemnly. "It's been too cold."

There was a long silence. The human sat beside his partner, and for some time, neither spoke. The sun rose a bit higher, but the brightness did not increase.

"The clouds look ominous," the human half of the partnership noted, leaning backwards. "There is darkness in the air."

"Maybe we ought to leave," suggested the caterpillar, a tinge of hopefulness in his voice. They'd spent far too long in the forest.

His partner stood. "That might be best," he answered, but his eyes were focused on a spot not far from where he stood.

The hazy sunlight reflected brightly off the snow, but in one spot, the reflection seemed different. Curious, - another feeling unfelt before then - he moved closer to the spot.

The snow covered it, so he pushed that aside gently, exposing the small object to the air and his sight. Cautiously, as though afraid it might break, he lifted it, shaking off the rest of the snow. It was a small, wide, golden colored ring with various markings along the side.

Although he couldn't explain why, he felt a strange physical sensation, holding it in his hands. Not an unpleasant sensation, merely odd. He turned to the caterpillar. "Do you know what this is?"

His diminutive partner squinted through the sunlight. "I think I may have an idea, yes," he answered. "We should take it home."

"Home?" the other echoed, and lapsed into silence. He turned the object in his hands, examining it. After a long moment, he slipped it within his cloak and nodded. "Yes," he said then. "Home." He stepped back to the wreckage of the dark tower and lifted his partner in his arms. "We shall return when the snow is gone," he stated, nodding to himself. "There is still much to be done here."

Then, they were gone, and the forest was silent once more.

"_Herein begins the formulae for the spells of discomfort. Varying levels of discomfort can be obtained for the object of the spell, and in various parts of the body of the subject. Intensities range from mildly ticklish to excruciatingly painful. Beware, for use of those of stronger intensity may sometimes cause unintended death. _

"_In general, spells of discomfort and pain can be used for both human and digimon. The level of intensity each creature needs to feel discomfort vary - obviously, higher-level digimon can tolerate much more abuse than a lower-level digimon, and usually more than the average human. An intensity which causes a baby-level digimon to almost delete will not produce more than a tickle in higher, adult-level digimon, though it may cause some pain in a human, depending, of course on the human. _

"_The general formulae for pain-causing follows:"_

The wagon jolted abruptly to a halt, causing Daisuke to lose his place in the book and causing Yamato to shout out loud in frustration. Daisuke set the book aside and crawled to the front of the wagon in time to see Yamato leap down.

"What's happened?" he questioned.

Yamato was shouting a string of gibberish, obviously frustrated for some reason or another. The Monochromon had stopped moving, but it wasn't obvious why.

"I don't know," Hikari answered. "The Monochromon don't want to go on. They've been going slower and slower, and now they've stopped." She turned in her seat and climbed down from the wagon seat. She walked through the mud and ice mixture to the pair of Monochromon that pulled the wagon and placed her hand on the head of the one closest to her.

"Do you think they might be afraid of - of whatever's here?" Daisuke wondered.

"That's a possibility," Tailmon answered. She was still standing at alert, prepared if an attack occurred at any moment. "We should all be afraid of something."

"The smell of Bakemon in the air makes most digimon nervous," Gabumon agreed, shaking his head. "It can only mean that something bad is coming."

"Should we be out here, then?" V-mon asked. "With evil around?"

Daisuke nodded. "_Miyako_ is out here somewhere, remember?" he reminded his partner. "We're hardly going to abandon her and go slinking back to the palace simply because it got dark out and there are Bakemon around."

Tailmon's eyes narrowed at him. "Have you seen a Bakemon, ever?" she asked.

"Once," he admitted.

"Then you must know that they're nothing to be scoffed at. Don't underestimate the ghost digimon. They're powerful, and they almost never work on their own. They're always led by something more powerful."

Hikari shivered slightly. "I wonder what's leading these Bakemon," she wondered.

By noon - although it was hard to tell the time with cloud cover such as this - they weren't far from Ichijouji Manor, but the trip threatened to be a long one. The single Monochromon was slow moving, uneager to continue at all. Wizarmon himself was nervous, Hawkmon ever watchful, and Hitoshi's Plotmon partner hid beneath some blankets and whimpered.

"There is something dark about," Wizarmon attempted to explain. "It's not safe to be about." He looked upward at the clouds and shivered.

Miyako agreed with this pronouncement. There was darkness in the air, tinting the edges of her vision and making everything appear foggy and distorted. For only the second time, she found herself mentally cursing the gift of magical sight.

"Do you hear something?" Hitoshi questioned, and scarcely had the words escaped his lips when the trees parted and Miyako caught sight of several ghostly figures she couldn't immediately recognize.

"Bakemon!" Wizarmon gasped. "Oh, it's not safe here at all."

There were two of the ghostly digimon. Hitoshi took shelter within the wagon, but despite his urges, Miyako climbed down out of the cart. Between the Bakemon appeared a small, somewhat familiar, black feline digimon.

Wizarmon stepped forward. "What do you want of us, Black Tailmon?" he questioned. "We have nothing here for you."

"Oh, but you do," purred the feline. "You have a Chosen, and she may be the one Master searches for." Her gaze turned toward Miyako. "I seek the one with the Power of Light." She stretched out a paw and, within it, Miyako could dimly make out a small object - a crest within a tag with the symbol of _Hikari_ carved within its pink surface.

"Chosen?" Wizarmon asked, barely concealing his surprise.

"I'm not the one you want, but you won't live long enough to find what you seek," Miyako answered, eyes narrowed. She was already reaching for a familiar object within her pocket.

"Bold words," Black Tailmon murmured. "We shall see." She turned, her purple-tufted tail waving behind her, and disappeared into the darker parts of the forest.

The Bakemon moved forward to attack.

"Hawkmon!" Miyako called, raising her digivice. "Let's go! Digimental up!"

"Hawkmon armor evolve! Shurimon!"

Hitoshi and his frightened partner were stunned, both by the appearance of the ghosts and Shurimon. Miyako waved them toward the wagon. "Stay in the wagon," she ordered, and they hastened to do so quickly. When she turned toward Wizarmon however, she was surprised to see him remove a staff from some unknown place within his cape.

"You can order me to safety if you wish, milady, but I shan't obey. Magic Game!" The tip of his staff shined with light, and a massive ball of energy slammed into the nearest Bakemon, deleting it instantly.

Hikari walked in front of the Monochromon, gently patting each one and trying to coax them both forward. It was an excruciatingly slow pace that infuriated Yamato, who was debating whether to abandon the Monochromon and the cart and continue on foot.

With the scent of Bakemon still in the air, Daisuke had been forced to temporarily abandon his study of the book and watch for danger. He walked beside the cart, eyes and ears alert for any sound or sight that might signal a Bakemon attack. Strangely enough, he felt an urge to return to his reading, however.

"I see something!" V-mon called from where he was perched beside Yamato at the front of the cart. He pointed one arm to a spot not far from the road. "See? Behind that tree? It looks like it might be a carriage, doesn't it?"

Yamato halted the Monochromon - not a difficult task since they'd scarcely been moving - and climbed down from the cart, heading in the direction V-mon had pointed. Gabumon followed closely. Hikari waited on the path, patting the Monochromon, trying to reassure herself as much as them. Daisuke waited, eyes on the trees.

"It's a carriage all right," Yamato confirmed when he emerged a few moments later. "It might have been Miyako's, might not have. I can't tell just by looking at it. We'll have to go through it, see if anything was left behind. There's no one in it - seems to have been abandoned."

They left the Monochromon on the road and ventured through the surrounding trees and bushes. The vehicle appeared mostly unharmed, although the Monochromon that must have once pulled it were gone. A few small dents were in the side, much like most carriages that spent time on the road.

"If it came from the palace, it will have a mark inside to identify it," she recalled then. "Inside the door, the seal of Yagami."

Yamato hesitated a split second before he flung open the carriage door, revealing the emptied interior. A few blankets had been left on the seats, and a single lantern, long since burnt out, sat on the floor. Aside from that, the interior was vacant.

The snow at the base of the carriage had been cleared away, and then melted, significantly. In the mud below, Daisuke thought he could make out a few footprints. He began to search the area for more.

The inside of the door did indeed have the seal of Yagami embossed into its fine wood, but this proved only that the carriage had originally come from the palace. It might not have been the one that Miyako had traveled in. Hikari and Tailmon searched the inside of the carriage, seeking some sort of evidence left behind that might tell of the travelers.

Gabumon sniffed the air and the ground around the carriage, seeking a scent of some sort. He walked around the carriage several times, nose in the air. Yamato examined the outside frame to see if it had suffered any serious damage - burn marks or bad dents that might indicate it had been involved in or witness to a battle.

Hikari climbed out of the carriage, shaking her head. "They didn't leave anything behind," she reported. "No evidence at all."

Yamato emerged from the opposite side, a frown on his face. "This is an old carriage," he said, patting the frame with one hand. A hollow thump sounded. "It's traveled many journeys, but nothing extraordinary, and no recent accidents that I can tell." He turned to Gabumon, who'd given up sniffing for the moment to listen. "Any luck?"

Gabumon shook his head. "There's the scent of a recently deleted Monochromon, but I can't tell if it deleted because it was attacked and badly injured or if it simply froze to death." He sighed. "I smell humans, too, and another digimon, a small one. The scent is faint, though. I'll try inside." He entered the carriage to sniff the interior.

"If it was Miyako, Gabumon will know her scent," Yamato said reassuringly.

Hikari nodded and looked up at the sky as she thought. "There doesn't seem to be signs of a battle here," she noted optimistically. "No serious damage to the carriage, no blood, no felled trees. If this was Miyako's carriage, then she and the driver must have either survived the storm and walked to safety or are nearby."

"I can't think of why they'd stay nearby," Yamato replied, frowning in thought. "How far is it to the nearest village, do you know?" When Hikari shook her head, he thought to ask Daisuke, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was about to call out for him when Gabumon emerged from the carriage, a grin on his face.

"Definitely Miyako's," he reported triumphantly. "She was here, and in this very carriage."

"The question is - where did she go after that?" Hikari finished.

"And where did Daisuke go to?" Yamato asked, looking at the empty clearing.

Some definite foreshadowing in this one, so I hope you kept your eyes open. Stay tuned.


	5. The Future Approaches

**Part Five:** The Future Approaches

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: The author is owner of all plots and whatnot, but characters are borrowed and used without permission. Also, parts of the plot are borrowed as well. Digimon belongs to Toei Animation and some other people in Japan, not me!!

* * *

Bakemon were slow, somewhat dimwitted digimon, though when they were roused they could be efficient destroyers. Even when called out to attack, however, they were no match for Shurimon's speed. He moved so quickly that human eyes could hardly follow him. Miyako had difficulty seeing her partner even when he stood still, mostly because of the darkness in the air. Her vision was clouded by the magic that she saw. Knowing that the center of a battle is not the wisest place to be when one's vision is compromised, she moved closer toward the large white blur that she knew to be the wagon.

Shurimon, with Wizarmon's help, was quickly defeating the Bakemon, and those that were not defeated retreated into the dark trees that lined the road, disappearing. Sensing Miyako's distress, Shurimon de-evolved and hurried to his partner the moment the Bakemon were gone. "Miyako – are you hurt?" he asked.

Miyako shook her head, blinking at the brownish-red blur that was her partner. "No," she said. "I just can't see!"

Hitoshi emerged from the wagon now that it was safe. "Can't see?" he echoed dumbly.

"The magic – it's everywhere. I can't see," Miyako complained, hoping that the blur she was facing now was Hitoshi. Her eyes began to hurt from having to strain, and she shut them, feeling a bit of relief then. "I need to go back to the palace – I need to warn Hikari...."

"How will you travel if you cannot see?" Hitoshi interrupted. "You want to turn and go back now, when we have almost reached our destination?" He took her arm, slowly leading her back to the wagon. When they reached it, Miyako lifted herself on to the back of the cart to sit. She forced her eyes open a moment, but saw only the dim blur of trees in the distance, and the swirling darkness of magic nearby. She shut them immediately again, groaning her distress.

Wizarmon had been quiet, rustling amongst his things in the back of the cart. Now, he moved forward, pushing past Hitoshi. "Open your eyes," he said. When she didn't immediately do so, he added: "I have something that may help you. Open them."

Miyako did so, reluctantly, seeing only a blur where she knew Wizarmon to be. Suddenly, he came into focus, and then the rest of her vision did as well. The darkness did not recede, but it wasn't there. For a moment, Miyako felt confused. The world looked odd and dull to her, the colors muted, and she was uncertain why.

Wizarmon stepped back. "It may take some adjustment," he said then. "The spectacles give the sight to those who do not have it. I thought that it might do the reverse as well."

She reached up, touching her face and the metal frames now resting on her nose. "Everything looks – odd," she said hesitantly.

"How long have you been able to see the magic?" he questioned, and Miyako thought.

"A few months, I think," she answered, trying to recall time when her mind felt so confused. "Yes, it was the end of summer, and now it's nearly the end of winter. Can it have been so long?" She turned toward Hawkmon, questioning. He nodded, confirming her mental calculations.

Wizarmon nodded sagely. "Two seasons of a certain way of seeing and your eyes become used to it," he answered. "You have forgotten how the world looks without magic. The spectacles you wear are supposed to be a temporary measure for those who wish to see magic and cannot. They only work for those who possess the magic.

"Once, many years before you were born, those spectacles were common. It was easy to tell a spell-caster by the glasses he wore. Nowadays, they are difficult to find. The ones you wear now are a relic from a time long past. I have no use for them, and I thought that perhaps they might do the opposite for you. Be careful when you use them, however, and do not use them too often."

Miyako removed the frames from her face for a moment and peered at them closely, squinting through the magic. "I don't understand – they stopped making them? Why?"

"There was only one wizard who once made them if I remember correctly," Wizarmon answered. He was silent for a moment, thinking. "I cannot tell you why they are no longer common or even why I have them in my possession. I caution you, milady; if you wear them too often you may lose the sight, and that is not a skill I would wish to relinquish if I had it."

She replaced the frames so that she could better see, and nodded her understanding. "I'll have to ask Koushiro about these," she decided. "He might know more." She turned and looked toward the sky. Although she could still see that it was covered with dense, thick clouds, it didn't seem quite _as_ dark as it had when magic had clouded her eyes. She turned to Hawkmon. "Have you strength for another evolution?"

"Why?" Hitoshi put in. "The danger is passed."

Miyako nodded. "For now. I don't doubt that it will return." She sighed. "I am not the Chosen they seek, but I know who is, and I must go and warn that Chosen that evil comes searching for them. I must go back to the palace." She turned in the direction of Ichijouji Manor, sighing.

"So close," Hawkmon said, sighing. "And yet so far. I have strength for the journey."

Miyako turned to Hitoshi. "I need you to go in my place, if you can," she said. "Tell Lady Ichijouji that I am well, but I must go back to the palace. Tell Lady Jun that her brother is in no danger, lest she worry, and that he will come as soon as he can. Can you do that, or should I write it down?"

Hitoshi repeated the message back, nodding. "I will go if Wizarmon will agree to carry me the rest of the way," he answered.

* * *

"Over here!" V-mon called, waving his arms. 

Daisuke was examining the ground some distance from the carriage. He pointed to a specific spot as the others approached. "See that?"

Yamato bent over and squinted at the mark he was pointing to. "No," he answered. "What's it supposed to be?"

Hikari, however, was pleased with the discovery. "It's Hawkmon," she said. "They came this way."

"Most of the ground is a sea of mud here, now," Daisuke noted, gesturing to the rest of the forest floor. "Even the path. When Miyako left the carriage, it was probably mostly snow, all melted now, and so any footprints they might have left would have been in snow, and gone. Except for this one, which is most definitely Hawkmon's."

"How are we going to be able to follow the trail of a bird-digimon?" Yamato questioned pessimistically. "Hawkmon probably flew most of the journey to...wherever they were going. Where were they headed? The palace is back that way," he gestured with one waving arm. "Did they hope to walk all the way to Ichijouji?"

"That's an awfully long trek," V-mon observed, frowning.

"Maybe," Hikari put in, answering Yamato's question. "Then again, maybe they were only walking to a place where they might get a ride – a nearby village." She turned to Yamato. "Have we a map?"

* * *

The displaced villagers were returning to their homes, pleased with the warm spell of weather. Taichi, however, was concerned, for reasons that he could not easily explain. Iori, skeptical of the observation of the clouds, was nonetheless forced to admit that the strange, warm weather was cause for worry, especially when the snow had begun again. 

While the oddity of the situation was easy to grasp, what the strange weather patterns meant for the future was not. Koushiro was busy searching through endless books of weather-magic, wondering if there was perhaps a prophecy contained within his books that related to weather. A dozen wizards helped him, pouring through books endlessly.

Jyou was relieved – warm weather meant no more frostbite, although it was certain to bring an influx of colds. He set his staff to work immediately reading up on the recommended cures and treatments for spring colds, and searching out herbs that were known to work.

For Mimi, springtime weather meant a return to springtime clothes, and this meant that a great deal of work was to be made for any seamstresses and tailors, for she insisted that new clothes were an absolute necessity.

Taichi left Mimi to Sora, hoping that he would not again be tormented with endless talks of flowers. He hoped that she would be enough to protect him from the silliest of costumes, and wondered if allowing Hikari to leave had been the best decision.

* * *

It was a tiny, modest village, poor, but not so poor that it could not provide for the safety of its residents in during cold winter storms. It was nestled, quite snugly, in a valley. On the western side of the valley was a plateau, and at the top of this was a giant manor in which the Lord and his family lived – or at least, had lived, surrounded by green fields that provided food for most of the village. Then, the Lady had died and his children had been called elsewhere, and so now it was only the Lord himself, hidden in the dark house, alone with his grief. On the eastern side of the valley was a river, a gentle flowing stream which began in the eastern hills, meandered along the edge of the village and then deposited its waters in a lake just a half-day's walk south of the village. Another stream ran from the plateau to join with the lake waters. 

A single bridge crossed the stream at the edge of the village, close to the foot of the eastern hills. The only thing on the eastern side of the stream was an imposing, frightening building with bars on its windows and a strong guard of soldiers. This was the prison, and the villagers mostly stayed away from it and tried to pretend it didn't exist.

Since the death (or at least disappearance) of the old King, the prison had been emptied of many of the prisoners that had languished near death within its walls. They were released into the world, freed to return to their families, but before that, there had been one mysterious stranger that had freed them on his own. He was gone now, and most believed it was because that job no longer needed to be done.

This was mostly true, but it was not the whole reason.

A single figure appeared near the foot of the eastern hills. It was warmer, but he still wore a warm, dark cloak that covered him entirely. In the shade of the hills and the slowly sinking sun, he looked like a shadow and nothing more.

Only a small creature, the tiny green caterpillar-digimon that trailed him, confirmed that he existed in the light and not only in shadow. It scuttled after him, concerned, but pleased to be in the world once more, pleased that it had returned to this village.

"Why have I come back here?" the shadow-figure questioned. He stood on the edge of the stream bank, looking over the village. A short distance away, three boys stood on the grass, fishing lines dangling into the water.

"Where else is there to go?" the caterpillar questioned, looking toward the boys. For a long moment there was silence, and then the figure emerged from the shadows and walked slowly along the grass.

The waters of the stream were fast-moving, an unusual occurrence brought on by the recent blizzard, but it was shallow and narrow, and the boys could see him from their spot. They paused, staring in astonishment, for no one entered the village from the eastern hills. Two of the boys might have been frightened, might have suddenly remembered they had something important to do, because they hurried off, leaving their poles and lines in the muddy stream banks.

The third boy might have been bold, might have just been too frightened to move. He stood motionless on the edge of the stream and watched as the stranger walked along the edge.

At first the figure seemed not to notice him, or anything else around him, and then it was directly across the water from where the boy stood. It turned and faced him.

The hood of his cloak was far too large, for the figure's face was almost invisible behind it. For a long time there was no noise but the running water beneath them, and the boy began to wonder if the figure was a ghost or some other being not empowered with speech.

Then, as though it had heard his thoughts and wished to prove him wrong, the figure spoke, its voice deep, but quiet and soft, as though it were gentle and breakable. The boy was so astonished by the sound of the voice that he almost forgot to pay attention to the words being spoken, and grasped only the last one: "You."

The boy opened his mouth to answer the question, but he didn't know what it had been. "I - ," he said, and then said nothing else, just stood with his mouth agape.

The figure tried again, and this time the boy endeavored to listen to the words. "Who are you?" the figure asked.

"Who am I?" the boy questioned. "I – I," he stammered for a moment, then stopped, gathered his courage, and answered: "I am called Shijo."

There was silence, and the figure turned to look at the green caterpillar that had followed him from the hills. He nodded, as though accepting this information.

"Who are you?" the boy asked when he had gathered his courage again.

Again, there was silence, and then the figure replied: "I'm not certain."

* * *

Takeru was standing on the edge of a balcony, peering out at the ominous clouds, when he spotted the great, large, bird soar in. For a moment, he wondered if he was hallucinating, and then he recognized it as Holsmon. 

A few moments later he was down on the grounds, pushing his way through a crowd of onlookers that had gathered to watch the giant bird digimon land. "Miyako!" he shouted, hoping to get her attention. Holsmon had de-evolved, and he looked exhausted.

Miyako turned her head toward the familiar voice and waved him closer. Takeru pushed through the crowd and made his way to her in the center. A thousand questions and words were on the tip of his tongue, but she spoke first and asked what he never expected: "Where's Hikari?"

"Hikari?" Takeru asked, stopping in his tracks a few steps away from her. "She wasn't with you?"

Miyako gave him a look that plainly said that she thought he was crazy. The crowd was slowly dispersing. She took the tired Hawkmon in her arms and walked through those that remained. Takeru followed her inside the palace, and it wasn't until they were alone in the hall that she stopped to ask him what he meant. "Why would Hikari be with me?"

It was warm, but not _that_ warm, and yet Takeru began to feel hot and sweaty. Slowly, he began to explain about the blizzard and the concern and the lack of news and Daisuke's determination to go and seek her out. When he'd finished, Miyako had turned slightly pale.

* * *

The wagon had resumed rolling and Daisuke had resumed his reading. The afternoon still lay ahead of them, and they had far to travel. After close examination of the map, they had concluded the direction Miyako was likely to have taken, and the village she was likely to have headed for. With any luck, they would meet her on the path if she had not yet arrived. 

_Herein lie Prophecies of the Future: _

_The Prophecy of the Children. In times to come, far beyond the times of now in which this prophecy was Seen and afterward Written here, there will arise to power Children who may bring about the Demise of one of the Faithful. They are to be feared, and if this warning is not heeded, more will thus Perish. _

The wagon jolted suddenly to a stop, for the Monochromon had once more decided to hesitate. Daisuke let the book fall from his grasp and went to help push.

* * *

"What's happened?" Takeru wanted to know, but Miyako didn't answer. For a few moments she stood still, looking weakened and concerned, and then she shook her head. 

"I need to speak to Taichi," she said then, and took off at a fast walk. Takeru followed, hurriedly.

"This morning he was meeting with the village planners," he reported, trying his best to keep up. "This afternoon, I'm not sure. If it's about Hikari, he'll make time, that's for certain. Miyako? Wait!"

Miyako paid no attention to him however, and only stopped at the top of the staircase she'd just climbed – leaving Takeru breathless – when Sora and Mimi crossed her path, carrying armloads of fabric, trailed by servants and seamstresses carrying armloads more. Sora stopped in her tracks as though she'd seen a ghost.

"Miyako – when did you - ?"

"Just now," she answered before Sora had a chance to finish her sentence. "I need to speak to Taichi, right away. Where can I find him?"

Mimi pointed wordlessly down the hall, and Sora said, "In his room, I believe. What's happened?"

Miyako was already past her and down the hall. Takeru, having just regained his breath, hurried after her. Mimi and Sora both apologetically handed their loads to the women following them and quickly followed.

Iori had just emerged from the room in question, a pile of papers filling his arms. He would have been barreled over if Sora didn't have the foresight to shout a warning to Miyako that he was there. She stopped, luckily, just in time.

"I'm sorry Iori. It's urgent – is he free?"

Iori didn't usually hurry, no matter how flustered Miyako insisted on being. He set the pile of papers down on a nearby chair and sighed. "For the next half hour, I believe so," he answered. "I think he's watching the clouds at the moment, but if it's serious he will tear himself away. You've returned, I see."

"Yes," Miyako answered, impatient. "It's very serious, Iori. I'm going to go in if you don't have a problem with that."

Iori sighed. "No, no problem. Barge on through."

Miyako took a moment to collect herself and prove him wrong, and then walked through the door in her most dignified manner . Takeru, Mimi, Sora, and, because he had to admit he was curious, Iori, followed her.

Taichi was indeed observing the clouds and frowning at them. Despite the warm weather a few more snowflakes had fallen in the last hour, and this worried him. He heard the door open and the parade of footsteps follow through and turned from his window.

The sight of Miyako was enough so that Taichi could see something was wrong. She looked tired, determined, pale, and somewhat frightened. Her dress was torn, muddy, and mostly ruined. Exercising an extreme amount of patience, he said "Sit," and then ordered that some food and drink be brought.

Jyou came as soon as he was called, as did Koushiro. Miyako drank the water that was brought, but put off the food until after she'd told what she had to tell.

* * *

_The Prophecy of Ultimate Power: In times to come, far beyond the times of now in which this prophecy was Seen and afterward Written here on this page, two of the Children as Seen in the previous Prophecy will join despite past differences. One will be a traitor to our cause as well as theirs, the other our Enemy from the beginning. The joining will lead to the Banishment and perhaps the Demise of Our Master. Beware!_

The carriage jolted to a halt, and one of the Monochromon whined in a way that sounded like it was motivated by fear. Gabumon sniffed the air, Tailmon's ears stood again on edge. V-mon blinked awake.

"I smell Bakemon again," Gabumon reported. "They're closer, now."

* * *

When Miyako finished speaking, she had expected that a barrage of questions would follow, but there was only a tense silence that seemed to stretch forever before Taichi spoke. 

"Can you find her?" he asked, directing the question toward both Koushiro and Miyako.

"I can try to," Miyako answered. "I have the strength for it, I can cast the wind spell and seek her out."

"No," Koushiro said then. "You need rest, Miyako, or you'll be exhausted. You ought to go and see your sister, let her know you are well. I can cast a spell to search."

"I'll go to her, as soon as you do," Takeru volunteered. "Pegasmon is fast, I'll reach her quickly."

Taichi nodded. "Go then, and hurry. I think we might not have much time. Koushiro, I want you to go with Takeru. We don't need to lose anyone else right now. Hurry."

* * *

No sooner had Gabumon spoken than the air shimmered and six of the ghostly digimon appeared from nowhere. For a long moment there was silence. The Bakemon made no move to attack. The Monochromon were visibly distressed, and began to moan and whine. They could feel the air of death that surrounded the ghosts. Yamato, Daisuke, and Hikari each waited, their digimon prepared to defend at a moment's notice. 

Yamato had his hand hovering over his digivice, clipped to his belt just beside his sword hilt. He'd not attempted evolution since the last time, when Gabumon had been unable to evolve due to the dark towers, but he hoped it was still possible. Human weapons would be useless against ghosts.

The air shimmered once more, and in the center of the Bakemon appeared another ghost digimon. It hovered in midair at the same height of the Bakemon, but carried a massive scythe. It had no arms, but held the handle of the scythe under one sleeve. Attached to the handle was a long chain, and at the opposite end was a heavy metal ball. A red-colored hood and cape covered its head and two glowing green eyes peered out from the darkness within.

"I am Phantomon," the digimon stated in a smooth, hoarse voice. "My master seeks the Child with the power of Light." With its free arm, the ghost held out a crest with the symbol of _Hikari_ engraved in its pink surface.

"How did you get that?" Tailmon demanded.

"What does your master want with me?" Hikari questioned. She climbed down from the wagon, stepping forward so that she might address the ghost directly.

The Bakemon began to laugh softly, a creepy noise that broke the silence of the road and made any living creature nearby shiver or hide in fear. Phantomon lifted his scythe high and they silenced themselves.

"What my master wants is my master's concern," Phantomon replied when the quiet had resumed. "Will you come willingly?"

Tailmon's eyes had never left the ghosts. She let out a low hiss, her distrust of the undead quite apparent.

Hikari shook her head, holding her digivice in her hand. "I will not come," she answered, "and you will not take me. Digimental up!"

Her partner had never been as pleased about an evolution as this one. "Tailmon armor evolve! Nefertimon!"

"I will carry out my orders," Phantomon answered simply, his voice calm and smooth. "Attack!"

The Bakemon moved forward.

"Let's go, V-mon! Digimental up!"

"I'm ready! V-mon armor evolve! Fladramon!"

Yamato chanced a glance toward Gabumon, who nodded his assent quietly. "Gabumon evolve!" he called. "Garurumon!"

"Fire Rocket!" Fladramon shouted, setting one Bakemon aflame. It seemed indifferent to the fire.

"Hell's Hand!" A monstrous hand appeared from somewhere underneath the ghost's tattered rags. Taken by surprise, Fladramon was flung across the clearing and into the side of the wagon, breaking the frame and scattering the items inside. The book Daisuke had been studying landed in the snow at the edge of the path.

"Fladramon!" Daisuke shouted, running for the wagon. He'd been prepared to take shelter behind it, but that appeared to be a fairly useless defense now.

"That's what you call an attack?" Fladramon boasted, extracting himself from the wreckage. "Fire Rocket!" he shouted again. The Bakemon, already aflame, again seemed mostly unconcerned with the flames but, its raggedy sheet was burning brightly, and it silently deleted.

Garurumon leapt in front of his partner, shielding the defenseless from the Bakemon approach. "Fox Fire!" he called, but, like Fladramon's attack moments earlier, it had little effect. Undaunted, Garurumon resorted to simply swinging his massive paws, clearing the Bakemon away. The were sent, flinging, into the trees and each other. A few deleted, but most did not.

"Hikari, get to safety," Yamato shouted, turning away from the battle.

"Safety where?" Hikari asked. Nefertimon was ready, waiting for her to climb aboard. "There's no place around!"

"Come," the winged digimon said. "Home."

Hikari hesitated, turned back to view the battle. Phantomon was slowly moving closer to where she stood, showing no fear of any of the others.

Fladramon had dived back into battle, arms and fists flying, fire blazing around as he moved. Daisuke turned his gaze toward the muddy ground, where the book lay open. It had been flung some distance away from where he stood. He wondered if he ought to risk going for it.

As he thought, Phantomon's words returned to him. _'My master seeks the Child with the power of Light.'_

Something about those words and the way they were spoken triggered a memory somewhere in the depths of his mind – but a memory of what? Uncertain of why, Daisuke thought that the book must have something to do with the memory. He crept along the backside of the half-smashed wagon.

"I – I don't want to leave you both here," Hikari said. "I can fight...."

The book was only a few steps from the edge of the carriage. Daisuke locked his eyes on the target, ready to lunge. He would have to move fast, and he would have to be careful.

"Hikari, he's after _you_," Yamato replied. "Not either one of us. Go, get to safety, and we'll follow you after you've gone. You'll be safer at the palace than here."

With a hurried dash, turn, and dash, Daisuke grabbed the book and returned to his sanctuary behind the wagon. He clutched the open book to his chest, breathing heavily.

He pulled the volume away so that he might read what was inscribed there.

"But...," Hikari protested. She turned her eyes again. Phantomon was closer, now. She turned her eyes the other direction.

Daisuke's eyes were locked on the page. As he read, his expression changed from mild curiosity to understanding, and then to shock. He had found what he had been searching for.

"Go!" Yamato shouted, directing his frustration both at his partner and at Hikari, who was still hesitating climbing on to Nefertimon.

Daisuke ripped the page he'd been reading from the book and thrust it at Hikari. "Take this," he said. "Take this and go. It's not safe for you here, listen to him."

Still she hesitated. "I don't want to leave you here!" she retorted, and looked at the paper. "What is this?"

"You'll need it. Listen, you'll have six days. _Six days_. Don't forget."

"What? Six days for what?" Hikari echoed dully. She shook her head as though to clear it. "I'm not going."

"You have to!" he answered, half-shouting himself now. "Go!"

Phantomon had moved closer. Garurumon prepared himself, then shouted: "Fox Fire!"

The blue flames surrounded the ghostly reaper, then faded. Phantomon would have been smiling had he had the ability. Instead, the Bakemon were laughing, gleefully cackling and sniggering riotously.

"Soul Chopper," Phantomon intoned serenely, waving the blade of his scythe. Now it was Garurumon that went flying, crashing into a grove of trees and de-evolving in a blaze of white light.

Gabumon sat up, holding his head and moaning painfully.

Yamato's face went pale. He turned to face Hikari, his eyes wide. "For the last time, Hikari, go!" he said, and then turned, removing his sword from the space at his belt. He shouted and lunged for Phantomon, who effortlessly moved his scythe to block the sharp blade.

Reluctantly, Hikari did as she had been told, climbing aboard her partner's back.

"You are of no concern to me, either of you," Phantomon mumbled. He swung his scythe, the chain attached to the end flying wildly. Yamato leapt backward, dodging the attack, but the chain was longer than he'd thought. It swung again, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. He sat down, hard, and then the back swing crashed into his head, knocking him out.

Nefertimon was already hovering a few feet above ground, preparing to depart. Hikari repressed the urge to cry out as they slowly moved higher.

Before any other action could be taken on the ground, a tall flame arose, suddenly, from the ground beside Phantomon. A figure was visible within the fire, and then the flames were gone, leaving only the figure, a tall being dressed in a black cloak.

Hikari held tight as Nefertimon rose into the air, trying not to turn back, trying to urge her partner to hurry while at the same time trying to see what was happening below. Something about the way that Daisuke and Yamato had urged her to leave made her feel worried and terribly afraid, though she couldn't explain why.

She needn't have hurried away, however, for the new visitor paid no attention to her departure. As soon as it appeared, Phantomon moved away from the others. Hikari caught a glimpse of Yamato pulling himself groggily to his feet and Daisuke glancing up to meet her eyes and see that she was indeed escaping.

Then, the figure in the dark cloak raised an arm and the clearing became invisible to Hikari through tall, leaping flames.

* * *

more soon, I promise!! 


	6. The Evil is Here

**Enter The Light**

**Part Six: **The Evil is Here

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Surprisingly, none of these characters belong to me. I didn't create them and I cannot take credit for them. I'm only using them as part of my own sick creation because I am a sick, strange person. There, the truth is out. The plot, however, is mine, all mine, and if you sue me or steal the plot from me, you'll regret it. So there.

* * *

"This way?" Takeru echoed. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely certain," Koushiro replied over the sound of the roaring wind.

Takeru clutched tightly to his partner and shivered in the cold. Despite the warming weather, the temperature above the tree line was still lower than the ground. He pulled his warm hat over his ears tighter with one hand, never loosening his grip.

Below, the roads were muddy, the ground was muddy, and quickly melting snow had formed hundreds of large puddles. Much of the forest was reduced to a muddy swampland. In a few spots, Takeru could make out carriages lodged in the mud, abandoned by passengers and drivers who had decided walking would be more efficient. Although the sun had begun to poke out from behind the dark clouds, the area felt dark and dismal.

Takeru used his free hand to remove his digivice from the pocket of his coat, but it was making no noise and showing no sign of any other Chosen in the area. Koushiro, however, seemed to be quite certain of his path over the trees, guided by whatever spell he had performed.

"I'm going to fly closer to the ground," Koushiro called suddenly, freeing Takeru from his reverie. "Follow me, and keep your eyes open. We're close, I can feel it." He signaled to Kabuterimon, and the giant insect began a quick descent toward the ground.

"Do you feel anything?" Takeru asked his partner. "I feel a strange sense of apprehension, but that's all."

"I don't feel anything odd," Pegasmon replied. "Remember, though, that neither of us has magic. Trust the wizard."

Takeru pondered this as the ground rushed closer to him.

They landed soon after, and their partners de-evolved and fluttered behind them as they waded through the mud.

Takeru became aware of an odd smell in the air. "Do you smell something burning?" he asked aloud.

Patamon sniffed the air. "Yeah…smells like trees, or maybe grass burning. Or burnt."

Tentomon agreed. "It smells as though the burning has completed. Only a faint stench is left." He turned to the wizard. "Do you think this has something to do with what we are searching for?"

"No doubt in my mind," Koushiro answered. He paused, sniffing. "Can you tell which way it's coming from?"

For a few moments, the only sound heard was of sniffing noses. Each took a direction and wandered off alone for a few steps, sniffing. "Smells like this way!" Takeru called back after a moment, and they hastened to follow him.

* * *

The flames had ended, though the smell of burnt wood remained in the air. Yamato rubbed the back of his head as he surveyed the clearing he now found himself within and tried to remember what had happened. There was mud beneath him and mud covering most of him. He scratched his head and found that there was mud in his hair as well.

Gabumon was pulling himself out of a mud bank that had once been a pile of snow. He, too, was covered in muck and mire, and looked exhausted. "Did we get them?" he wondered vaguely.

Yamato shook his head. "I don't think so, but they're gone anyway. Why though?" Suddenly, a moment of panic rushed through his brain. "What if they got what they were after? What if they got Hikari? Hikari!"

"I think I remember you telling her to run away," Gabumon reminded his partner as he rubbed the muck from his eyes. "She might have gone far enough away that she can no longer hear you."

Yamato considered this for a moment. "We ought to go after her then," he decided. "Daisuke!"

There was no answer to this summons, either. Thoroughly frustrated and sporting a rather large bruise on the back of his head, Yamato kicked the mud, sending some of it flying, but mostly just resulting in his boot being stuck.

"I hear footsteps," Gabumon reported. "At least, I think I do. There might be mud in my ears."

Yamato paused his mental cursing and listened. Surely enough, the sound of approaching footsteps, squishing in the mud, could be heard coming slowly closer. He reached instinctively for the sword still at his waist, but did not unsheathe it yet.

"Not a sound," he whispered softly, more to himself than his partner. Gabumon squinted past the burnt stalks that remained of the trees at the edge of the clearing.

"Hikari! Daisuke! Yamato!" called a voice that was recognizable.

"We're getting closer, I'm certain of it," said another voice, equally recognizable.

Yamato relaxed his stance. "Takeru! Koushiro!" he called out.

* * *

Some distance from where she had left the fire, Nefertimon stopped and de-evolved, too tired to fly much farther. They were still some distance from the castle, where Hikari was sure she must go.

There wasn't any where _else_ to go, was there?

They rested near a small, fast-flowing stream, fed by melting snow, cold and clean. Hikari drank and splashed water on her face, saying nothing. Tailmon rested on a large, dry rock, one ear open for the sounds of approaching danger, one eye on her partner.

Hikari sat beside her after a moment. "Do you think they're dead?" she asked, finally.

There was a long silence in which Tailmon did not reply. "It may be," she answered. Her large blue eyes sought out Hikari's, and she looked deeply within them. "Do you feel it to be true? What does your instinct tell you?"

"I don't know," she returned. "Part of me thinks that they must be; there's no way to escape it. But I don't want it to be, and I also think that if there was a way, then Yamato and Daisuke would find it. Which is true?"

"I don't know," Tailmon answered, sighing. "I can't evolve again today. I'm too tired. I guess this means we walk home?"

* * *

Yamato had finished his retelling of all he was able to recall. He sat down in the mud, not minding it because he was already quite muddy, and rubbed his head wearily. "I woke up covered in mud, everyone disappeared."

Koushiro had begun weaving his next spell before Yamato had finished his tale, and he now sat on a mostly-dry rock in a trance-like state, though for what purpose none of the others could correctly discern.

Takeru put a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "Sit and rest," he told him. "I'll search for footprints – some sort of sign. Koushiro will – use magic. You're hurt." From the small pack of supplies he carried on his back, he removed a jug of water and offered it to Yamato. "Drink some."

Yamato drank the water thirstily, and then splashed some on his face so that his eyes were no longer caked with mud. "I don't think you'll find footprints," he stated. "They arrived out of nowhere, surely by way of magic – probably dark and evil magic if there is such a thing. That leaves little evidence, and no footprints."

"It leaves evidence," Koushiro stated, not opening his eyes. "It will be very difficult to detect, however, even with magic, and especially without magical sight."

Takeru sat on a mostly dry rock, drinking a sip of water from the canteen Yamato passed back to him. "Even if there were footprints, there's so much mud here, and there has been too much traffic already." He sighed. "What now?"

* * *

Miyako was clean, but hardly relaxed, despite the hot bath she'd taken to rest. She couldn't think of sleeping, even though the sun was slowly sinking into the sky in the late afternoon. She paced around her sister's bedroom, too concerned for Hikari to even sit. She paced between the wide windows with a clear view of the road to the palace, and the door, clamping down on the impulse to head out and seek out the missing on her own.

"Relax," Momoe told her. "You're exhausted, and you need your rest. If you won't sleep, at least sit down. I'm tired simply watching you."

Reluctantly, Miyako sank into a large armchair, not willing to admit, even to herself, that the comfortable cushions made her feel tired and exhausted. "I hope she's all right," she said for the thousandth time. "I hope they're all right."

"I'm sure that everyone is fine," Momoe answered reassuringly once more. "You cannot help them if you are as exhausted as you are, Miyako. Rest."

There was a light tap on the outer door, and it opened before Miyako had a chance to rise to her feet. Sora entered, treading softly as though she were afraid to make a noise. When she caught Miyako's gaze, she shook her head. "There's been no word. Nothing at all, yet. I don't expect there will be until tomorrow, so there's no use all of us staying awake all night."

Miyako sighed heavily and sank deeper into the cushioned chair, eyes drooping.

* * *

The sky had grown oppressively dark once more, and though it was only late afternoon it was difficult to see in the dark. Hikari could feel the squishy mud grow hard and crunchy with ice beneath her feet as she walked, ever heading in the direction she was mostly certain home lay. It was colder now, and she shivered, even under the warm cloak and scarf. They were wet from the snow and dirty from the mud, which caked, hard and cold. It wouldn't be long before the damp clothes froze to her skin.

"We ought to stop," Tailmon said for perhaps the thousandth time, but Hikari shook her head.

"I don't know how to build a fire very well, and even if I could, the ground is too wet and cold and there isn't any dry wood. We've got to keep walking; it's our only hope of staying warm."

Her partner sighed, looking up at the cloud-covered sky. The clouds seemed darker than they should, or was it later than they thought? A movement flashed overhead, catching her eyes. Tailmon paused in her steps and stared for a long moment, not daring to blink. Had it been something or only a trick of the wind?

Hikari had traveled a few steps beyond her partner. Ahead, she saw a clearing between the trees, and a space she thought might be the road. It was difficult to see in the dim light, though, and she wished for a candle or a torch or a lantern to guide her way.

Something else distracted Tailmon, but this time it was not a movement but a sound, a faint whisper of a wind, but there was no wind – not even a rustling at the top of the trees. Her ears stood stiff and tall, on the alert, every sense in her body prepared for whatever was near.

A harsh sound broke the silence of the forest – a high pitched, repetitive noise that seemed to be coming from nearby. For a moment, Hikari panicked, startled at the noise, but then she recognized it as the sound of her digivice, and reached for the small object within the pocket of her skirt.

Tailmon heard the sound of footsteps approaching quickly – large, padded footsteps – but she did not sense danger. The sound of the wind overhead once more tickled the edge of her ears, though she neither saw nor felt the breeze.

"Hikari!" came a shout from within the forest, and she turned, expecting not what she saw: Yamato, astride Garurumon, bounding lightly through the snow – the cause of the approaching footsteps. A moment later came the source of the wind-noise – Takeru, riding Pegasmon, descending from the skies.

"Thank goodness you're all right," Yamato was saying amidst the confusion. "I hate to think – couldn't even fathom the possibility…." The rest of his sentenced trailed off into nothingness, but the meaning was inescapable.

Takeru had few words, only a strong embrace and a wide smile. "Koushiro will be on his way soon, you'll see."

"And Miyako? Is she all right, then?" Tailmon asked.

"Safe and warm at the palace. Where we should be, too," Yamato answered. "Once Koushiro has arrived."

Hikari, who hadn't yet spoken, said then: "Where is Daisuke?"

* * *

Try as she might, and tired as she was, Miyako could not sleep. She ate and bathed, a nice hot bath, and then, at her sister's urging, she laid down in bed, but though her eyes closed, she didn't sleep. The excitement of the day had been tiring, but relaxing was difficult.

She arose again and paced back and forth from her bed to the door of her room, but even this didn't calm her nerves. Finally, she reached for a book from the pile of magic spell-books Koushiro had lent her, and this turned her mind toward the dark-magic book Daisuke had been given. What was contained within that book, and where was it now?

There was a light tap at the door and then it opened, and Sora peered around. Miyako had curled herself within warm blankets, but the candle near her bed was lit and the fire still blazing. She had a book on her lap, but had not yet opened it.

"Can't sleep?"

The young spell-caster shook her head solemnly. "No," she answered flatly, and opened the book. "I'm tired. I've tried to sleep, and I've failed. I laid down with my eyes shut and nothing happened."

Sora nodded sympathetically and sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you searching for a sleep spell?" she questioned.

"No," Miyako answered. "I'm not sure I've the energy for magic now." She glanced toward Hawkmon, who rolled over in his sleep, snoring softly. "I was hoping to find something boring enough to put me to sleep."

A light chuckle was Sora's response. For a moment there was silence, and then the elder chosen wondered: "Is there something bothering you, Miyako?"

She sighed and shut the unread book. "I wish I could have gone instead of Koushiro. I feel so useless here. I ought to be helping. It's my fault Hikari is in danger, isn't it?"

"It's not your fault," Sora contradicted. "You did what needed be done, and you can hardly be responsible for either the weather or whatever evil is after her." She shivered and stood up from the bed, wrapping her arms about her. "I hope…," she started to say, and then stopped, turning to peer out the window.

After a long moment, Miyako said: "The clouds are so dark and the evil grows stronger, I can feel it."

Sora nodded. "I can feel it, too, even without the magic," she agreed. "What could it want with Hikari?"

'_I know. It wants the light,_' Miyako thought to herself, but said nothing, only reopened the book.

* * *

There was a long, terrifying silence.

"Where is he?" Hikari demanded, her voice wavering only slightly, only discernible to the most alert listener.

Yamato glanced toward his brother, who shook his head. "I don't know," the elder finally answered, following his words with a sigh. "I awoke, and he was gone."

There was another terrifying silence. "He has to be somewhere," Hikari said, finally. "If he's not with you, then where is he?"

"I don't know," Yamato repeated.

Hikari bit her lower lip.

"He's fine," Takeru said quickly, lest chaos break out. "I'm sure he's fine. Daisuke can take care of himself; you know that, I know that, everyone knows that. He's probably gone to seek shelter somewhere, and in a few days, he'll make his way back to the palace." He glanced toward the others, his eyes daring them to disagree.

Before anyone else could respond, a buzzing noise came from overhead, and Koushiro, riding atop Kabuterimon, landed. He noted Hikari's presence, and nodded, pleased. "Good to see you're well, Princess," he greeted. "We must go, now, before further evil arrives. Hurry!"

Hikari, somewhat reluctantly, climbed aboard Kabuterimon and took her partner with her.

* * *

It was early morning, although it was difficult to tell the time without the sun. It was dark as night, and, though warmer than usual, the snow had again begun to fall.

Hikari had not slept that night, and she looked weary and tired. She had spent the evening reading a crumpled piece of parchment that she'd clutched in her hand since she'd left Daisuke. It was the prophecy, torn from the book. No matter how she'd tried, she could make little sense of the words.

_Destruction can only feed the power of the Dark Lord  
__The power of the Child of Light  
__Will destroy him,  
__Yet empower him. _

_Beware, for this power hides within an unlikely place.  
__Beware, for this power is well protected and well hidden.  
__Beware, for the bearer of the power knows not  
__The truth of its nature._

_When the light has erupted  
__Six days will pass  
__In darkness  
__The sun and the sky covered by the wings of many bats_

_**This** is the hour of triumph._

_Beware, for the power to destroy the Dark Lord will be found  
__If the Child of Light is not destroyed by the end of the six days.  
__Beware, for the power of Light and the power of Hope  
__Will join to form angels_

_Who will then shoot arrows  
__At the hearts of loved ones  
__And unleash a greater power._

_Let not this prophecy fall into the hands of those  
__Who oppose the Dark Lord,  
__Lest it lead to his destruction._

_And yet destruction is always temporary,  
__For all shall be reborn. _

"What did he say to you before you left?" Tailmon wondered, having read over the lines for the thousandth time.

"Daisuke? He said, '_You'll have six days_.' What did he mean? What does this mean?" Hikari sat down heavily on the bed and then lay down, staring upwards. "I hope he's all right," she added in a faint whisper, so quiet that even to her partner's keen ears it was barely audible.

* * *

Koushiro and Miyako spent the morning and most of the afternoon trying to make sense of the piece of parchment.

Miyako was frustrated, despite their limited success. "It does explain why they were seeking Hikari. In all likelihood, she's the Child of Light, even if she's not much of a child any longer. There's also _no clue_ why anyone would have given this to Daisuke. To pass on to Hikari, I suppose, but why?"

"Could there be an ulterior motive?" Hawkmon wondered. "It does say that the power of light will empower this Dark Lord as well as destroy."

"Hmmm. Who is this Dark Lord?" Tentomon buzzed. "Is it Demon, or is it merely a digimon working for him?"

"Or worse...," Miyako considered. "What if the Dark Lord is above Demon? More powerful?"

There was a moment of silence as all but Koushiro, mind elsewhere, thought of this possibility.

Koushiro finally spoke: "We must consider the possibility of a defector within the ranks of darkness."

"A defector?" Miyako echoed in disbelief.

"I believe it is possible that whoever the mysterious figure was that gave the prophecy – and the entire book – to Daisuke did it with the intention of undermining the power of the Dark Lord."

"But – who? And why?"

The elder wizard shook his head gravely, folding his arms. "I cannot even begin to speculate, but it's a theory nonetheless. Still, let's try to see what other information we can gather. Perhaps a line-by-line analysis…."

"'_The bearer of the power knows not the truth of its nature,'_" Miyako read. "Do you think - ?"

"It matters not," Koushiro returned sharply. "The phrase describes Hikari."

"Yes, and if she knew the truth of the nature of the power…," she continued.

He sighed deeply. "…it might help her to wield it, and to defeat the darkness," he finished. "I know. Miyako, we won't have this conversation. It won't lead to anything."

"Why won't it? Surely preventing a Dark Lord is reason enough to reveal - ."

"In my mind as well, but not in the mind of the Queen and not in the mind of the Wizards Council. At any rate, there may not be time to consult either of them or to attempt to convince them. Could we focus?"

Miyako sighed, sulked slightly. "Of course."

* * *

Taichi was nursing a headache that had begun before dawn and, despite Sora's tea and Jyou's potions, had only waned in the slightest. The definite cause of it was not entirely clear to him, but he was able to narrow it down to one obvious factor.

That was the constant buzzing noise of conversation that had followed him about from the moment he'd awakened. Everyone in the palace was talking – mostly in high, frantic tones – about what was causing the mysterious darkness and the strange snow. Everyone who had come to the palace for any reason knew that an evil was approaching and were anxious to find what the truth was. Miyako and Koushiro had hidden themselves safely away within the wizard's basement lab where they were safe from the gossip and speculation, but Taichi had no escape from the hectic conversation.

He'd tried a few times to escape to a quiet room, but had immediately been followed by someone who'd thought it was quite necessary to get his opinion on something of great importance or to tell him something of great importance or to get permission to do something of great importance.

His head was pounding. Even Sora was of little consolation to him. Her concern for him was ordinarily comforting, but the pain only made him testy and impatient, and his mood made the pain worse.

It was with some difficulty that he succeeded in shutting and locking the door to a quiet, empty library filled with books and empty of all other people. Taichi flung himself into a cushy chair and shut his eyes, absorbing the silence. Outside, he could hear a few nervous ladies flutter through the hallway, but their conversation was muted to him and the words were unclear.

He rested his eyes for five blissful minutes before a door that he hadn't been aware of opened and Mimi poked her head around the frame.

"Oh, there you are. Thank heavens, we'd thought you were lost. Don't you know the meal will be served soon?"

Taichi bit his lower lip sharply to keep from screaming loudly – it would only have hurt his head even more, he reminded himself. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. In the dim light of the inner chamber he could see Mimi's blurry frame peering at him with concern, a candle held in one hand.

'_She's only concerned,_' he reminded himself. _'It wouldn't help at all to shout at her. It's not entirely her fault.'_

He sighed deeply and slowly raised himself from the couch. Mimi's concerned expression deepened. "Are you all right?" she questioned. "You don't seem yourself."

Before Taichi could answer, another door, this one hidden behind a large and elaborate tapestry, opened, and another figure entered the quiet library. "Do forgive me, Lady Tachikawa," a soft, gentle voice said. "I have need to speak to my son alone."

It had been some months since the Queen had been seen by public eyes, but she looked no different than Mimi remembered. For a moment, she stood still, astonished as though she had seen a ghost. Taichi marveled at her speechlessness.

After an awkward silence, Mimi nodded, curtsied slightly, and stammered out an, "Of course, your majesty," before quickly leaving the room, visibly shaken.

Taichi shook his head in amusement. "You have saved me," he said to his mother with an amused grin, but she didn't smile in return.

"There is a grave situation occurring, Taichi. You will need much more than me to save you," she answered.

Sufficiently chastised, he nodded and sank down into the soft couch he'd been resting in. "I know," he answered, rubbing his eyes. "I guess you know they seek Hikari."

"I could hardly have missed it," the Queen replied. "The entire palace is abuzz with the news."

Taichi blinked his eyes and sighed once more. "Do you have any idea what they want with her?"

"I do," she answered, surprising her son greatly. There was a moment of silence while the Queen cast her gaze over a pile of books. Taichi waited. "Hikari has…abilities…which ordinary people can not come close to understanding," she said finally. "I believe these may be what your enemies covet."

"Abilities…," Taichi echoed vaguely. He shook his head, trying to comprehend.

"I decided it was best if, for her own safety, Hikari's abilities were kept secret from everyone – including herself. But it would appear as though the secret was not as secure as I had thought."

"What sort of abilities - ?"

The Queen shook her head dismissively and turned back to her son. "That I cannot answer for you," she answered. "It is hardly the issue at hand, either. If you seek answers, ask the wizard. He will tell you if ask. Taichi, you can not protect your sister from all dangers. It took me some time to learn that."

"Are you telling me to give her to the Dark Lord?" Taichi asked. He stood, headache forgotten for the moment. "I won't…."

She held up a hand to halt the rant before it began. "I don't expect that you will."

"Then what - ?"

"You cannot know everything before it happens," the Queen replied, a faint ghost of a smile on her face. "Hikari will be all right, you must remember that. She needs neither you nor anyone else to protect her. She will leave you, I think, and then when she returns, you must let her rest."

"Let her rest?"

"She will be quite tired," she continued, and then turned to lift aside the tapestry from behind which she had appeared. "I will leave in a few minutes – I will go to the sea. When Hikari returns, she may come there."

* * *

There. A present for you. Don't get your hopes up - I'd like to say that it won't be too long before the next chapter will be out, but I've promised that before and failed to deliver. Rather than risk being called a liar, I'll just say that it'll be out as soon as possible.

Part of the reason that this next section has taken so long to write is that I haven't been certain of how to write it. I finally decided on a certain point of view rather than another. When it's all finished (estimated completion date at this rate is, oh, about 2020…just kidding, I hope) I might write it from the other point of view, but who knows.

Ah! So busy! I've wasted far too much time already with these notes! I hope you've enjoyed this part. Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing, your nice comments just make my day! Thank you all.


	7. The Truth is Somewhere

**Enter the Light**

**Part Seven: **The Truth is Somewhere….

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Characters are not mine! They belong to a bunch of suit-wearing people in Japan, where I have never been. The plot is mine (mostly) and so please don't steal it. Thank you.

It had taken quite some time and effort for Koushiro to persuade Miyako to settle down and to study the books of prophecy that he had in his possession. Since the acquisition of the forgotten books, the wizard's laboratory had become nearly packed with volumes of texts, some of great interest and magic. With some effort and a bit of assistance, he had begun to organize them into different categories. The texts regarding prophecies that he had set aside he now gave to Miyako to study.

She attacked the volumes with a vengeance at first, eager to seek out an explanation of some sort, but prophecies are vague and confusing even to the one who sets them on to the parchment, and her focus wavered and drifted.

It was nearly night, the candles within the lab having grown short during the long, dark day, when a soft tap came at the heavy door. Miyako heard the knock vaguely in the back of her mind, but was disinclined to rise and answer it. It grew louder in the back of her mind, and she pulled her focus away from the prophecy she'd been studying for the past few minutes – hours? Days? She wasn't sure.

"Tell me about Hikari," Taichi was saying to – no, demanding of – Koushiro.

As usual, the wizard was unruffled. He stepped aside as Taichi entered the small chamber and shut the door behind him.

"I haven't much time," Taichi explained. "My mother – she said that you could explain to me…."

Koushiro frowned. "There isn't much to tell, yet," he answered calmly. He turned toward Miyako. "Tell me what you see."

Miyako rubbed her eyes and peered toward the young King in the dim candlelight. She squinted in the low light and tried to make sense of the aura around him. "I see…," she began, and then shook her head. "The aura is the same as always," she reported. "Except for around the head. There is a vague darkness around the eyes."

"Hmm," he answered, nodding, and began to rummage for some bottles. "What do you think that means?"

"I don't know," she answered. "Could it be that the darkness might be affecting him?"

"That's very likely," the wizard replied, still searching through various potions on the shelf above the fireplace. "Have you felt at all odd today, sire?"

"I've had a headache since before I woke up," Taichi answered bluntly. He looked around him for a moment, and then moved aside a few books on the nearest, emptiest chair. For a moment, he hesitated, and then shrugged and sat down hard, sending up a small but significant cloud of dust.

Miyako was still squinting through the dim light. "Yes, that sounds correct. The dark blur is not only on the head, but it seems stronger there. I suppose it isn't strong enough to affect the rest."

"Or it could be that the headache is so strong I can't feel any other pain," Taichi considered. He cautiously, slowly, leaned back in the chair. "I don't understand – what do you mean the darkness is affecting me?"

"There's a great deal of darkness around, even here," Miyako replied. "It's greater out in the woods, where I could hardly see at all, the dark magic was so strong, but there's still some that penetrates the palace. It's natural that it would affect us."

Koushiro emerged from his search within the shelves, holding a small glass beaker filled with a bluish-purple liquid. It bubbled for a moment, and then settled. "Try this. It might help."

Taichi sighed. "I have had six cups of herbal tea and an equal number of potions that Jyou cooked up, so I don't suppose this will hurt either." Nevertheless, he eyed the bubbling potion with some caution before he drank it.

"It'll take a few moments to work, I expect," Koushiro said, taking the beaker back and setting in a cauldron not far from the fire that was filled with other empty beakers.

Taichi was silent a few moments, waiting for the potion to take its effect. "This isn't what I came here for, Koushiro," he said then, his expression solemn.

"We've made little progress," the wizard reported, turning away from the fire. He took a box from another shelf and opened it, revealing a fresh batch of candles. "We haven't been able to determine precisely what the prophecy means, except to say that it's most definitely about Hikari."

He sat up then, noting in some part of his mind that the pressure on his mind was a bit less. "That's not what I meant, Koushiro," he said, before the wizard could continue.

Koushiro didn't answer for a moment, but handed the box of candles to Miyako, nodding at her. "What did you mean then?" he finally questioned.

"My mother said that if I sought answers, I should ask you and you would tell me. She said that there is something about Hikari that is…different, and this difference is what the evil seeks."

The wizard nodded sagely. "What else did she tell you?"

Taichi shook his head. "Only that Hikari possesses…abilities…that ordinary people can't precisely understand. She wouldn't tell me what they are, only that I should ask you. You do know what she's talking about, don't you?"

Miyako lit the candles slowly, setting the wick of each of the shafts into the flame of the dying candle, and then setting it within its own, new candlestick. With each new flame, the room slowly grew brighter, and as it did, so did the young King's understanding of the magic. Koushiro explained as best he could the distinction between the types of magic in much the same way he had explained to Miyako at the start of the winter.

* * *

Another evening had come, which meant that another day had passed with barely a glimpse of the sun. Hikari wrapped herself in a warm robe and stood outside, not far from the palace lest danger occur, peering up at the sky in hopes of glimpsing the moon or stars. It was there that Takeru found her, shivering slightly in the cold. The snow had stopped, but the temperature had dropped low in the endless night. He returned to the castle and emerged again with a blanket.

Without bothering to comment on the insanity of freezing oneself in the cold, Takeru draped the blanket over her shoulders and said only: "There are few stars tonight, so what do you seek in the sky?"

"Answers, maybe," Hikari answered, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself. "Takeru – what's happened to Daisuke?"

He sighed quietly, turning his own gaze toward the darkness that was the sky. "I don't know," he said then. "All I know is that he wasn't there when I arrived, and I haven't seen him since."

"Do you think - ," she began.

"I think he's fine," Takeru interrupted before she could finish the sentence. "I think that Daisuke is fine. He'll be here tomorrow; maybe the day after, I'm certain of it."

Hikari shook her head. "I'm not," she answered. "I think something's happened."

* * *

Miyako awoke late the next morning after having spent most of the night awake, searching through endless volumes of spells and prophecies. The snow had ceased falling and there was none remaining on the ground. Although the temperature felt warmer, the sun had not emerged from behind the darkest of dark clouds, and it felt like night with out candles lit in her room.

She wrapped herself warmly in a robe and stood by the fire a few moments before venturing to the window to glimpse the grounds below. There were a few carriages rolling slowly through the mud and dirt, carrying people and goods between the village and the palace. The carriages were all of a similar design, carrying the seal of Yagami to indicate their point of origin. The carts containing goods were of various constructions, some covered and some uncovered, some loaded down with piles of goods, some waiting to be loaded.

Around all of the carts were people – workers mostly, dressed warm clothing, milling about and talking to each other, discussing business, haggling over prices, transacting business. The deliverymen were dressed in simple, plain coats, some with patches or frayed edges, and hats pulled low over their ears. Some wore knitted scarves wrapped about their necks, some gloves or mittens to keep their hands warm.

The administrators whose job it was to log the movement of goods in and out of the palace were all dressed in similar blue coats, with matching hats. They wore no gloves which might hamper their writing, and so their hands were smeared with ink. Nearly every one of them was followed by a smaller boy apprentice who carried the ink and spare pieces of parchment for the records, each of whom wore red or gray coats and hats and shivered in the cold as they observed the goings on.

Miyako stood for a moment, transfixed by the process, and then turned away to dress herself in warmer clothing and return to her own work in Koushiro's cold basement laboratory. As she turned, however, a glint of green and purple caught the corner of her eye and she moved her gaze back to the crowd below. At the outskirts of the plaza below was a lumbering little cart covered with a patchwork canvas and driven by a curious little creature with a tall pointed hat.

"What do you mean he isn't here?" a woman's voice was asking when Miyako emerged into the entrance hall. Jun Motomiya, wrapped tightly in a dark green cloak and hood that covered a dark purple gown, had a worried expression on her face as she removed her winter clothing. "Where is he, then?"

"Still somewhere in the forest, I presume," Iori responded, unruffled. He took her cloak gently in his arms and passed it to a servant standing nearby. "He hasn't as yet made his location known."

"Somewhere in the forest," Jun echoed. "Somewhere out in the forest, and yet no effort has been made to seek him out?"

"None that I am as yet aware of," the boy answered. "I expect you'll want answers of some sort?"

"Answers?" Jun retorted. "Answers?! Damned right I want answers! I want to know why my brother is in the middle of the woods, location unknown, and no one is out searching for him!"

Iori sighed heavily as they left the hall.

Miyako watched them leave, feeling a bit sorry for poor Iori, but sorrier for Jun, who must certainly have been confused and upset. She walked through the crowded entrance hall, filled with travelers who were permitted to rest and warm themselves by the fire, seeking the digimon to whom the misplaced cart belonged. She found Wizarmon and the driver, Hitoshi, that she'd left with him not far from the fire. Hitoshi was engaged in a spirited conversation with several of his coworkers, and Wizarmon was observing, more listening than participating in the interaction, an expression of curious amusement in his eyes.

The pointy-hat wearing digimon noticed Miyako from across the room and left the others. "I am pleased to see you made the journey safely, milady," he said politely. "It seems our paths have crossed again."

"My journey was straightforward and simple," Miyako answered. "Yours I would guess to be a bit more roundabout. You carried Jun back here?"

Wizarmon nodded. "Lady Ichijouji was ever so generous with the food," he replied. "I can't refuse such delicious forms of payment. Lady Jun was eager to return to the palace despite your message that her brother was safe. From what I've heard, though, it seems you were incorrect."

"It seems that way," she said, frowning. "Can you stay a bit? I could use some advice, and there's someone I'd like you to meet. The food here is not half bad, either."

The wizard digimon was pleased with the mention of food. "Advice is my specialty," he answered simply, "although I cannot guarantee it will be the advice you seek. Still, if there's food involved, I offer my services to the cause. A magical problem of a sort?"

"Sort of," Miyako admitted. As she spoke she began to lead the way out of the entrance hall and toward the main dining hall that only a few days before had served hundreds of cold and hungry villagers. Now it was nearly empty, as it was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. "Actually, it's a question of a prophecy we're attempting to decipher, Koushiro and I," she clarified. "It's baffling us, mostly, because it's actually a prophecy of Dark Magic."

Wizarmon paused in his steps, eyes growing wide. "A prophecy of Dark Magic…concerning the Chosen?" he asked, voice nearly a whisper. When she nodded, he said immediately: "Breakfast can wait, then. Lead me to this Koushiro of yours."

* * *

Hikari had slept badly and awoke feeling as though she might not have rested at all. She stayed in bed a bit longer than she usually did, but could not return to sleep even with a great effort put into the attempt. She moved slowly and without real desire, feeling as though the exhaustion suddenly affecting her were a great illness sapping her strength and motivation.

It was late morning before she had finally managed to dress, but she could not muster the energy to rouse herself much more. She stood by the window, feeling as though it had taken a great effort to even get that far, and nothing outside interested her in the least, so she made her way to a chair and sat, feeling exhausted.

There was a tap on the door shortly before noon, and Mimi entered, a concerned expression on her face. "I'm not sure why, but Koushiro told me you might not be feeling well and sent me with this." She held up a small glass vial holding a strange bluish-colored bubbling potion. "He says it will help."

It felt as though it took a great effort indeed to drink the potion, but Hikari did so, trusting in Mimi's story and Koushiro's judgment, not feeling the strength to ask how Koushiro knew something was wrong or even what was in the strange potion – things that ordinarily would have been an immediate concern.

She drank the potion, the bubbles tickling the inside of her throat and feeling odd as it went down. In the dim, hazy light, Mimi's concerned expression seemed difficult to make out. Hikari tried to suppress a yawn, but failed.

* * *

Wizarmon took such great interest in the prophecy that, hoping that she had not violated some pact of secrecy, Miyako led him to Koushiro's lab. Her fears evaporated the moment the wizard laid eyes upon the digimon, however.

"Wizarmon?" Koushiro said in disbelief, peering up from the volume of magic he was currently consulting. He stood, blinking several times. "I don't believe it."

The digimon peered with squinted eyes under the brim of his pointed hat. "This is your teacher, the great Koushiro?" he asked in a similar tone. "He is young to be a wizard, if what you say is true."

"He is more than he appears," Miyako replied, a slight bit of defensive pride in her voice. "Don't judge by outward eyes."

Wizarmon chuckled to himself. "Wise advice," he commented, nodding. "I thought it was I who was to give it, not to receive it."

"Come to give advice?" Koushiro asked, still blinking repetitively. "Miyako, let him be, let him insult me all he wants. If he wishes to give advice to us, I won't refuse him!"

Wizarmon peered over a few of the volumes. "My reputation precedes me, although not to the student. Haven't you taught her anything, wizard?"

"There hasn't been time for it," Koushiro replied, slightly defensively. "Can you help?"

* * *

Taichi took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. Despite Koushiro's potion, he still felt a ghost of a headache that he suspected might simply be due to stress rather than to magical influences.

Very few people would have been able to or permitted to barge their way through the palace and directly in to see the King. Jun Motomiya was one of those people – in part because she was very upset and in part because she was rather intimidating even when she wasn't upset.

"You'll just leave him for dead, then?" she demanded the moment she entered the room. Sensing approaching danger, the rest of the room cleared out.

Taichi blinked, sighed. "No, we're not leaving him for dead. Jun, I sent out a search party a few hours ago. They've not yet returned."

"And if they don't find him? What if he's injured? I need answers, Taichi. I need something to take home to my father to explain to him where my brother is. Tell me something!"

Another deep breath followed. "There isn't much to tell, Jun. I wasn't there. Yamato lost consciousness and Hikari fled. By the time Takeru and Koushiro arrived, Daisuke was gone."

Jun exhaled slowly and sank into a chair, her knees feeling week. "Then he could be dead…?"

There was a long silence. Taichi sighed.

"He could be," Hikari whispered softly, her shoeless feet having made no sound on the floor. "Let us hope not." She looked weak and pale, her hair falling limply around her face, looking thin.

"Hikari!" Taichi stood, took her arm, tried to lead her to a chair. "What's happened? Are you sick?"

Wordlessly, Hikari shook her head, paying little attention to him. "We can be assured," she said, her voice slightly stronger now, "that he will not give in, not to death."

"No," Jun answered. "I don't think he would."

"Hikari…," Taichi interrupted.

"I am not giving in either," Hikari said, addressing both her brother and Jun with the single sentence. She turned to leave, slipping through Taichi's grasp on her like a silk ribbon.

"Hikari -," Taichi began for the third time….

"I'm all right, Taichi," she finally answered. At the doorway, she paused and said, to Jun, "He isn't dead. I haven't felt him go."

* * *

Hikari had slept a restless night, filled with vivid, frightening dreams of fire and burning, of shouting and screaming and the jingle of chains and the crack of whips. She awoke just before dawn, shivering in the cool air, her skin damp with sweat. She pushed aside the blankets and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to warm up.

There was a vial of a familiar looking drink on the stand beside her bed – it was the same potion that Koushiro had sent for her the night before. For a moment, Hikari stared at it, wondering when it had been delivered to her room, what was contained within it, what its purpose was, why the wizard had sent it. Without a second thought, she drank the concoction in a few deep gulps. It was warm and smooth and strangely invigorating.

She found a warm robe and tied it around her waist, the soft material engulfing her, almost making the dreams slip away from her mind. Reflexively, she shivered at the recollection, then slipped her feet into soft, warm slippers and took the empty beaker with her out of the room.

The hallways were silent this time of day, with only the earliest of workers up and about, lighting fires and beginning to prepare breakfast. Taichi would be awake, Hikari thought, especially on a day like today, when there was so much to do and so many people to ask him to do things. The halls were dim, only a few torches and lamps lit to guide the way, but Hikari made her way through the halls without trouble – even the narrow, stone stairwell that led to Koushiro's basement workroom.

She didn't worry about disturbing the wizard. It was almost guaranteed that although Miyako would have given in to the needs of sleep, Koushiro would have remained awake, working long into the night and into the morning, catching a few minutes of sleep only when his body threatened to collapse beneath him. Hikari wasn't certain whether it was simply the way that he best functioned or if it was some magic at work, but she knew that Koushiro was rarely ever in slumber this time of the morning.

The door to his lab, a thick, heavy, wooden object, was shut tight, and no sounds came from within, but Hikari knocked loudly, certain that Koushiro was immersed deeply within some thick, deep book. She was taken completely off guard when the door was opened by a short creature in a thick, pointed hat.

"Your majesty!" the digimon gasped, removing the hat and bowing low. "It is ever an honor."

Hikari blinked, completely astonished. "Am I in the wrong place?" she wondered. "I was seeking Koushiro…."

"No, no," the other responded, hurrying to his feet and replacing his cap. "This is the place. The wizard you seek has simply slipped out quickly, momentarily, in search of a book. He said that the one he sought could be found in a room down the hall, but he's been gone for some time now and I wonder if he's been lost."

The Princess laughed softly to herself. "Lost within a book, if at all," she said.

"A common affliction amongst wizards of his kind," the magical digimon agreed. "I am Wizarmon. "

Hikari nodded, smiling to herself. "This I know," she answered. "We have met before, only under less comfortable circumstances. I do believe you had a Monochromon that didn't much appreciate the taste of hot and spicy peppers."

"Ah, so you both held secrets," Wizarmon said, nodding. "I see. Have you come seeking help? It's not often that a person knocks on the door of a wizard and doesn't need help. I am not Koushiro, but I shall do my best to help."

"Not help," Hikari answered. She moved aside a book from the emptiest of stools in the room, near the fire, and held up the glass container she'd carried from her own room. "Only questions. I want to know what was in this potion, and it was Koushiro who made it."

Wizarmon took the beaker and peered at the clear residue still left on the sides. "I might be able to answer that if you could tell me what it was for," he answered, an inquisitive expression on his face.

"I'm not sure of that, either," Hikari confessed. She took a deep breath. "Yesterday I awoke feeling very tired and weak. I thought I might be sick, and then Mimi brought me some of that, saying that Koushiro had sent it. I drank it, and instantly felt better. Today I awoke to find it already by my bedside."

"You felt tired and weak, you say?" Wizarmon echoed, still examining the beaker closely. "I wonder…it is possible that the dark magic in the air might have affected you. It's rare for one to be weakened drastically, but with things as they are right now, I suppose it could be."

"Things such as they are? How are they?"

"Very dark," the digimon answered gravely. He set the glass down atop a pile of books. "Dark enough that I can feel it down to my very core."

"The prophecy says -," Hikari began.

"I know," Wizarmon replied before she could finish. "I have been trying to determine its meaning. I think I might have heard it once before, but so long ago that I cannot remember the time nor place."

"Something is coming, I think. Daisuke said as much. I think he knew – knows what it means." She clenched her fists tightly. "If he _is_ unhurt, he ought to return, to explain. He should have explained more to me."

There was a moment of silence before Wizarmon spoke: "Do you not know what has happened?"

Hikari shook her head. "I don't. I haven't a clue. My dreams are conflicting where at other times they were clear. I saw him die before, and yet he did not. Does this mean that he will now, that I haven't seen it?"

"It may be," the digimon responded, his voice low. "It also may be that someone does not want you to see the truth."

"If that's so – could he be all right? If he were dead, they would wish for me to see, wouldn't they?"

"I can't say. Not without knowing who it was that was blocking, or why," Wizarmon answered. "You have the strength to break the barrier, your majesty, you must simply focus."

"Focus -," Hikari echoed.

The heavy door creaked open and Koushiro himself entered, carrying not one (as Wizarmon had stated) but three heavy, thick books in his arms. "I don't know if this one will help," he said, nodding toward the top one, "but I'm certain the others will have _something_ that will be of assistance." He sighed, setting the books atop an already towering pile. "Princess. How might I help you?"

"I want to know what's in the potion you gave me, Koushiro."

He frowned, scratched his chin. "I'm not sure I could tell you," he answered simply. "Herbs of some sort, I suppose. The recipe is around some place. I'd guess your real question is more of 'What was it supposed to do?' however."

"Yes, that, too," Hikari answered. "Why did you - ?"

Koushiro sighed again, for once, she noticed, showing his exhaustion. He leaned against a pile of books and ran a hand through his hair. "Dark magic affected your brother," he answered after a long moment of deliberation. "I thought it was likely it might affect you. I was told you had been tired and lethargic, and so I expected the potion might work on you as it did on him."

"Affected Taichi how? He seemed fine…."

"He is, because I gave him some two days ago. He complained of a vicious headache and said that none of Sora's herbal teas nor Jyou's medicines had helped. I suspected that it might be related to the magic, and Miyako confirmed my suspicions."

Hikari sighed now and was silent, lost within her own thoughts. Koushiro took the topmost book from his pile and set it upon the table in the center of the room, prepared to search through it for some sort of information. "Have you found any answers?" she asked.

"No," the wizard answered. "At least, none that make sense or seem appropriate." Again he ran a hand through his hair. "Prophecy is a difficult task, not one I'm suited for."

"Nor I," Wizarmon agreed, returning to his own book. "They speak in riddles, circles."

* * *

When Miyako rose to face the day it was nearly noon, and the dim sun was shining directly in her face. She moaned and rolled over, pulling the covers over her head.

"You can't stay in bed all day, Miyako," her sister Momoe's voice said, as cheerfully as possible. "Come now, it's late."

Reluctantly, Miyako pushed the covers from her head, still feeling groggy and exhausted from two nights and days spent reading indecipherable prophecies. "My head," she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Come on. You're needed," Momoe urged. "The searchers have returned, and they've brought something back."

"Have they found Daisuke?" Miyako asked, opening her eyes wide.

"I don't think so," the elder sister answered. "They've summoned all the Chosen, you'd best hurry."

* * *

Um…stuff happens. Yeah. A few questions may have been answered, but not really. I hope you enjoy suspense. Heh.

I'll have more up ASAP. Stay tuned!


	8. Where is the Future Now?

**Enter the Light **

**Part Eight:** Where is the Future Now?

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Plot, mine. Characters, not. Steal? No! Sue? Please, no. Thank you, Enjoy.

* * *

The sun parlor was lit with more candles than sunlight, despite its name. Only filtered sun was visible through the endless gray haze. Miyako was the last to arrive, and the others were anxious to begin by the time she had come.

It was Hikari that most concerned Miyako when she entered the room. While the rest of those present were talking, anxiously discussing the situation and their worries, Hikari was silent, sitting in a high-backed chair in one corner of the room. Her face was calm, serene, and without the lines of worry that the others expressed so sharply. Miyako sensed no dark magic around her, thanks to Koushiro's potion, and for that she was grateful, yet something, hidden deep within her eyes, told her that Hikari was most upset about something.

Hawkmon, standing at Miyako's feet, noticed the direction of her gaze. "She seems most worried," he said. "As though she were uncertain of the future, perhaps?"

"If she has not seen – has not dreamt anything – then the future is much more uncertain for him than we think," she answered

"She is in conflict," the digimon agreed. "She doesn't understand the power she's been given or how to use it. Do you think she will have to learn?"

Miyako frowned deeply. "I'm certain of it," she said, her voice grave. "His life might very well depend on it, if the prophecy is any indication. All our lives might."

The room fell silent at some unseen signal, and Yamato carried a small package wrapped within a cloth. "This was found at the site where he was last seen," he said, and opened it. A bright metal glinted in the candlelight, a bright, shiny reflection that momentarily blocked the view of the object – an elegant, well-polished sword. The room was silent entirely as it took in the view, and the only one who reacted was Hikari, who gasped.

"Hikari - do you know what this is? What it means?" Taichi questioned.

She didn't answer, but stood and crossed the room, taking the bejeweled handle in her grasp. All was silent. Hikari shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly, she nodded.

It was Takeru who answered for her, for he had seen the weapon once before. "I know," he said, and immediately all heads swiveled to face him, even Hikari, who turned her gaze from the sword for a moment. "Shall I tell?" he asked, and when she nodded, once, he continued.

"The sword belongs to Hikari, and to her mother and grandmother before her. Several months ago – while we were still in the woods, she had a dream that Daisuke would be in a fight and that he would be injured – badly injured – with only a stick to defend himself. She gave him the sword so that he might save himself, and he did. I suppose that he has carried it since."

Hikari nodded once more, took a deep breath. "He did. He would not willingly give it up or leave it behind."

"It wasn't there when we arrived, I know that. I would have noticed it," Koushiro stated. He turned to Yamato and Takeru, both of whom nodded to confirm his statement.

"Then it must have been placed there afterwards," Sora concluded. "I don't like the meaning of that."

"I'm not sure what it does mean," Mimi interrupted. "It means that someone took the sword from him, and if what Hikari says is true, that he would not give it willingly, then it's possible that he is alive and taken prisoner, is it not?"

"It is possible," Sora agreed. "And it is also possible that he is not."

"Someone put it in the forest in just the right spot," Iori noted. "Whoever did that knew that we would come searching for him."

* * *

It had been a few days since the dark stranger had appeared on the eastern banks, and yet Shijo's friends had not ceased to be afraid each time they ventured near to fish in the waters. Proud of his bravery, Shijo led the way each trip down. At first he felt empowered and stronger, but by the third day following he was simply frustrated and annoyed.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," he insisted, scolding his companions. "It's only the river, same as always, and he was not evil."

"He had magic!" the other boy insisted. He was smaller than Shijo, though not by much, and his dark hair was long and hung over his eyes. "Strong magic! You said he disappeared into nothingness!"

"If he wore a dark cloak," the second friend said, "then it's not likely he was pleasant. How many good guys are dressed all in black!?"

The others thought about this as they slowly moved toward the river banks. Although Shijo was brave, his steps also were hesitant and slow. In the end it was his partner, a pink Koromon, who piped up.

"What about the Dark Bandit?" the tiny digimon reminded them. "Didn't he dress in black?"

Shijo nodded, memory restored. "That's right, he did."

"I wonder what happened to him," the boy with the long hair wondered. They all sat on the muddy banks, digging for worms or bugs to use as bait. "Do you think he was killed?"

"No!" the third boy disagreed. He was smaller than the other two, and his hair lighter. He stood when he made this statement. "No, he can't be dead! They couldn't kill him!"

"What if the stranger we saw _was_ the Dark Bandit?" Shijo wondered, paying no attention to his friend's distress.

His companions disagreed. "Why would he go around dressed like that?" the long-haired boy asked. "Using magic? The Dark Bandit never used magic."

"He might have," the smaller boy put in. "Maybe we just didn't know about it." They thought about this for a moment, baiting their hooks with fresh, wiggling worms. "Still, I don't think it was him."

For a long time there was silence on the river. Each boy dropped his line in and waited for his worm to be bitten by a decent sized fish that they might eat that evening, or sell for a good price in the market. As they had done the last few days, they kept their eyes mainly on the eastern bank, watching the shadows of the hills for signs of another strange visitor.

The silence was abruptly broken by a loud clanking noise from upstream, near the bridge. All three boys froze and then turned in the direction of the foreboding prison building. The massive iron gates were opening, slowly, with the loud grating noise of metal on metal.

"Let's go see!" said the long haired boy, and was off, dashing upstream before the others had even pulled their lines from the water. They followed him, hurrying quickly, making little noise, hiding behind the trees.

The gates were completely open, and now they could see the carriages moving up the road, three large vehicles, each pulled by a pair of Monochromon, struggling to haul the heavy objects.

One was a simple carriage, the sort of which usually carried people from one place to another. The boys had seen many on the roads through their village carrying people to and from the villages, to and from the Lord's manor atop the plateau. This one was made of dark wood and painted an even darker black. There was no marking on the side of the carriage to indicate from where it had come, and no decoration of any sort. The wheels, also made of old wood, were painted a dark maroon.

Behind the first carriage was a wagon, a simple wagon, also painted black and with no markings of any sort upon it. It was filled to the brim with a heavy load, but the load was covered with a black sheet. Whatever was under the load was most likely metal, for the wagon made loud clanking metal noises as it rolled past the boys.

Shijo gaped. "What do you think is in there?" he whispered to the others.

"Chains," said the smallest boy. "Chains and all sorts of metal to make the bars on the cells or the doors." His eyes were big and frightened.

"Quiet," hissed the third boy, the one with the long hair. "Who do you suppose is in there?"

The third and final carriage was a great boxy object, painted black as the others. The driver sat atop the box to drive, and he was dressed entirely in black, a dark hood covering his face from view. There seemed to be no entrance to or exit from the wooden box.

Its contents were no mystery. The final vehicle held whatever prisoner was being condemned to spend time in the formidable prison.

"That's a very good question," said a voice that the boys didn't recognize. They paid no attention to the sound at first, and then turned to find that the cloaked stranger from before was standing behind them. Immediately, Shijo's friends became quivering masses of jelly, legs wobbling violently at the sight of the visitor.

"You don't know?" asked the long-haired boy, his voice wavering as he spoke.

"How would I know?" the stranger asked. "I would be suspicious, though."

"Suspicious?" the smallest boy questioned. "Of what?"

Shijo nodded. "There are no markings on the carriages," he said. "When the King sends someone to this prison, he sends them within carriages with the seal of the kingdom, doesn't he?"

"So my memory tells me," the stranger agreed. "And yet these are not. Why do you suppose that is?"

"Maybe he's a very dangerous criminal! A murderer!" the smallest boy piped up.

"Or maybe it's not the King who sent him here," the long-haired boy suggested. "But then, who did?"

"A very good question," the stranger said again. All four watched as the carriages slowly made their way up the path and toward the prison, moving slowly and creaking noisily.

"Why have you come here?" Shijo ventured to ask, having mustered his courage for some time so that he might state the question.

"I am looking for someone," the stranger answered vaguely.

"In the prison?" the smallest boy questioned.

"I am not sure of where. I have felt a presence near here, very close near here."

"So you _are_ a wizard!" the long-haired boy stated triumphantly, but the stranger disagreed.

"Perhaps," he answered, vague once more. "I don't think so."

"Who is it you're looking for?" Shijo wanted to know. "Maybe we could help you find them."

"I don't know the answer to that," the stranger answered. "My past is a muddled mess right now. It is possible that the one I seek is in there, but it is also possible they are elsewhere. For now, I think caution is best. I will observe more."

And he was gone.

* * *

Rather than go to help Koushiro, Miyako went to find Hikari once the meeting had dissolved with no conclusions made. As she walked through the halls, she felt familiar conflicts rise inside her.

"She must be told," Miyako said aloud, speaking only to Hawkmon. "And yet she must not. How can I keep it from her? It doesn't seem fair."

"It's not," Hawkmon agreed.

Further conversation was halted by the presence of Takeru, who was outside Hikari's room. "She isn't here," he said before Miyako could even ask the question. "I think she's gone outside."

Miyako sighed heavily, following Takeru to the nearest exit. There was silence for a long time, and then Takeru said: "Isn't there magic you could use - ?"

She shook her head gravely. "I have tried. I have used the wind spell many times, but with no luck. Koushiro has also cast many spells and found nothing."

"Do you think he could be dead? Or is he so well hidden that magic cannot find him?"

Again, the young mage sighed heavily. "Either could be true," she answered. "I am more likely to believe in the second, though, and not only because that's what I want."

"Why, then?"

They had reached the outside door, and now ventured outside. It was warm, warmer than it had been in days, and yet the snow showed no sign of melting. A few drops of water slid from the roof above them, but still the snow crunched below them.

Miyako bent and touched the snow with her hand, scooping some of it up. She held it out to Takeru, who touched it with his hand.

"It isn't cold!" he said, and shivered. "Something is wrong."

She nodded. "Very wrong," she agreed. "Some great power has caused this weather, and it is doing much more than that. It interferes with all magic." She squeezed her hand and the snow slipped between her fingers, dropping to the ground with plops.

"It has interfered with your spells, so you don't believe your findings are accurate," Takeru concluded.

"That is part of it."

"What is the other part?"

They could now see Hikari, sitting on a bench in the midst of a garden. The snow still covered the plants and the trees and the flowers were not yet blooming. She sat, eyes and mind focused far elsewhere, far beyond the palace grounds. The sword that had been returned to her was stuck into the ground not far from the bench.

"Hikari doesn't believe he's dead."

Takeru drew the sword from the dirt with ease and examined it. He swung it about in one hand and then shifted it to the other. For a moment, he seemed to be pleased with the weapon, and then he shivered as though suddenly cold and replaced it in the dirt.

"I can feel it, somehow," he said, a pitiful explanation at best, and shivered further.

Miyako turned her focus to the sword. Although she had very limited knowledge of how best to wield a sword, she placed one hand on the hilt and could feel the magic that coursed through the metal. She pulled her hand back and nodded to herself.

"It cannot be held by just anyone," she stated, and then sat on the bench beside Hikari. Takeru sat on the other side. Hikari seemed not to acknowledge them in any way.

Miyako squinted closely and could just barely make out the faint glints of magic that wove their way through Hikari's aura. The more she focused, the more she could see, and the brighter the magic appeared to be. "What do you see?" she asked, only half-expecting a response.

Hikari shut her eyes, shook her head. The magic seemed to fade from her aura. "Nothing. I don't know how to focus. I can't…."

"Focus?" Takeru echoed. "Focus on what?"

"I haven't dreamed," Hikari answered. She opened her eyes and turned them to the sky, covered with dark clouds even though the day was bright and visible. "I have seen nothing. Wizarmon said that something may be blocking me."

Miyako sat up straight. "Wizarmon said that?"

Hikari nodded. "He said that I have the strength to overcome the blocking, but I need to focus. I don't know what he meant, and I don't know how to do that." She got to her feet. "I don't understand any of it."

There was a long silence. Hikari rubbed her eyes with both hands and then her temples, as though she felt a headache coming. "I only feel tired," she said, and sat down again.

"Do you understand?" Takeru asked Miyako.

Miyako looked toward Hawkmon, who had perched on the back of the bench. "Not really," she answered finally, sighing a defeated sigh. A glint of magic caught the corner of her eye – the sword, still stuck in the dirt nearby. "Take the sword," she said then.

"What?" Takeru echoed.

"No," Miyako corrected. "Not you. Hikari. Take the sword. It will help you."

"I don't know how -," she began.

"I know. The sword will help you. Trust me." She felt Hawkmon's gaze on the back of her neck, sighed deeply, and stood. "I must go." She turned back toward the palace and took two steps.

"Miyako?" Takeru said then. "You know something more, don't you?"

She halted her steps and gazed down at the snow at her feet for a long time. "I know a lot more," she answered. "I am sorry I can not help you."

Hikari had paid little attention to the exchange. She pulled the sword from the ground and held it in her hands. Takeru watched, puzzled and confused, as Miyako left.

Holding the sword in both hands, Hikari took an experimental swing, trying her best to mimic the style she had seen others use. It was a clumsy movement, and she knew it, though she knew not why.

"I could - ," Takeru began, and then stopped himself. He had been about to offer to show her the right way to swing it, but realized that would not be best. Hikari had given the sword to Daisuke, and in exchange he had promised to show her how to use it. For someone else to show her would be breaking that promise, and like admitting he was dead, and that was not possible. Not now. Perhaps not ever. _'It's only been a few days,'_ Takeru berated himself.

Hikari gave up on trying to swing the sword and sat down again on the bench. She jammed the blade again into the warm snow and into the hard dirt below. Gripping the hilt in both hands once more, she sat cross-legged as she had before, and shut her eyes, trying to focus again.

'_How is a sword supposed to help me?'_ she wondered, but pushed the thought from her mind. _'I must see _something_,'_ she thought instead. _'Anything_.'

* * *

For some reason, Miyako couldn't muster the will to return to Koushiro and the study of the prophecy. Instead, she went to see her sister. Momoe was in her room, watching the flow of traffic as the carriages came and went from the palace. There was a small pile of knitted baby clothes on the bed, and beside it a small pile of fabric waiting to be sewn into even more baby clothes.

"Is the news good?" Momoe asked when Miyako entered.

"It is confusing," the younger sister replied. "I don't think it's good, but I'm not sure how bad, yet."

Momoe nodded with the wisdom of one who has experienced lost in their life. She had known friends who had lost loved ones and lost some herself. She had also spent a good deal of time in the last few months fearing that her sister had been lost and worrying about the future. "Is the princess upset?"

Miyako sighed deeply and sat down on the bed. "Very," she answered. She took a small baby cap in her hand and gently ran her fingers over the stitches, feeling the texture. "She doesn't know what to do, and she hasn't dreamt a thing. I wish I could help her."

The elder sister sat beside the younger and put one arm around her shoulder. "I'm certain that Hikari will be all right," she said. "We all must deal with the unknown, with the grief in our own way." She turned her head in the direction of the door, looking beyond to where Jun's room was.

* * *

Takeru watched Hikari as she sat, unmoving and silent for nearly an hour straight. He wished he had Miyako's power of sight or at least some sort of magical sense so that he might understand what was happening – if Hikari was at all successful in her endeavors.

Since he possessed no such abilities, Takeru found himself wondering about the meaning of Miyako's parting words. When Hikari had first told him of her prophetic dreams, he had thought immediately of magic, although she had told him otherwise. Now it seemed as though Miyako expected that the visions could come to Hikari at will rather than through the power of dreams, and to Takeru's limited knowledge, _this was magic_.

He thought for a long time, part of him desiring to go and seek out Miyako, to demand some sort of an explanation, even as he thought that it was unlikely she'd give him one. Another part of him thought it might be best to stay with Hikari, though. She needed some sort of looking after, and the gardens were empty now.

The sun was beginning to slowly sink in the western skies. The days were growing longer, but it was a slow process and it would soon be dark. Takeru shivered, thinking about the cold that would come with night, but realized then that he wasn't cold. He looked at the un-melted snow at his feet and shivered again.

Hikari had opened her eyes but still she did not move. Takeru turned to face her, having noticed her alertness, and watched her for some sign of expression of success or failure, but her face didn't move any more than her body. Her eyes, though open, still appeared to see something other than what was before her.

"Hikari?" Takeru finally ventured to say after some time had passed and then she did turn her head and face him, moving slowly. She blinked, an action that seemed as though it took a decade in itself, and time seemed to slow down. "Are you all right?" he finally asked. "Have you seen – anything?"

She nodded, a slow and endless gesture. She turned her gaze away from Takeru and gripped the hilt of the sword even tighter in her grasp. "I have," she answered, slowly, and stood, a quick movement that surprised him, took him off guard.

"Is it - ?" Takeru began, but Hikari interrupted.

"It is not what I expected," she answered. "I have seen, but not what I expected to see." She frowned deeply and appeared to be lost in thought for a moment. "It seems clearer now, but I have no answers to give you."

"I don't understand."

"No, I don't either. Takeru, I have seen the future, but I have not seen Daisuke. I don't know what this means, exactly."

The sun was performing a magnificent sunset in the west, beyond the village, over the valley below. The clouds overhead were as dark and foreboding as always, and the orange light of the sun painted the edge of each of them with a bright color. Purple and orange, pink and blue, the sky dazzled, bringing beauty where it could not during the day.

Throughout the village below and within the palace, many people stopped their work or leisure and admired the sunset. Even those who did not normally admire visual beauty were struck by the drama of the colors after so many days in darkness.

"It's beautiful," Takeru breathed. There was a long silence as they both stood and watched the sun sink lower until there was only a dim after-light remaining and it was dusk.

"It may be the last one we see," Hikari said, her voice soft but still audible in the evening silence. She took the sheath from where it lay on the bench and placed the sword back within it, then carried it as she walked back in the direction of the palace. "There isn't much time."

"Hikari, what did you see?"

She was gone, though, disappeared from his vision in the dim light, and if she answered, he did not hear her words.

* * *


	9. The Dark Sleep Spell of The First Day

**Enter The Light**

**Part Nine**: The Dark Sleep Spell of The First Day

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: As always, _Digimon_, all related characters, merchandise, etc, aren't mine, they belong to blahblahblah. The Plot is mine so don't steal it or else I'll send my cows after you.

Cows: Moo? Moo!!

* * *

Miyako awoke before dawn, a dream she could not quite remember licking at the edges of her memory, urging her to act on something she could not quite determine the reason for.

She lay back down into bed, the cold of the morning causing her to pull the covers tight over her, but she was not tired, not able to sleep any longer. Pushing the covers aside, she sat up, but the air was so chilled that she immediately pulled the blankets up to her chin.

It was dark in the room still, a few unlit candles on the table near her bed. No servants had come in and lit the fire, and so the air was colder than the morning chill might ordinarily have allowed. Miyako sighed deeply and tried her best to concentrate in the cold.

The fire, lit by magic, blared to life in a roaring blaze that awoke Hawkmon from his own rest. He shivered in the cold. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Miyako answered. "Something has awakened me." Candles lit, she hurried to dress warmly, layer upon layer of clothes added as quickly as possible.

"What do you think it is?" he asked, yawning and stretching to warm himself.

"I don't know, but it doesn't feel pleasant. I sense…," she paused a moment in her hurried dressing to examine the feelings bombarding her. "I sense a greater darkness than before – a greater danger. Something…something's wrong."

Hawkmon had flown to the fire and now warmed his feathers near the flames. "Where do we begin?" he asked.

Miyako slipped on a pair of warm boots, the last step. "We try to follow the feeling."

Takeru was in the hallway, dressed warmly in his outer clothes and looking quite concerned. He seemed in a hurry, and was walking so quickly that he almost didn't notice Miyako's door open suddenly.

"The sun hasn't yet risen," Miyako told him. "Where are you going? And without a candle to guide the way. It's so dark."

The corridor was indeed dark, silent and cold. It felt unnatural. "I didn't think of it," he answered. "I know these halls well. I was going to find Hikari."

'_Hikari. Of course,'_ the young mage thought, berating herself for missing the obvious. "Did you feel something?" she wondered. _'Is the darkness so strong that even _Takeru_ can sense it?'_

"I woke up and I had this feeling that something was wrong. Listen," he said then, and was silent for a moment.

"I don't hear anything," Hawkmon noted.

"Exactly. You wouldn't know – you haven't spent as much time here as I have, and you don't wake up early in the morning often, but even at this time of the morning, even before the sun has risen – there is always activity. There are always servants rushing around, lighting fires before the sun rises, preparing breakfast. I'd guess that it's actually much later than we think, and the clouds hide the sun. The silence woke me, I think."

Miyako pondered this for a moment.

"We have to seek Hikari. Something's wrong, I know it. She saw something last night, but she wouldn't tell me what it was." Without waiting for her to agree or disagree, Takeru turned away from her then and rushed down the hall without waiting for her to follow. Patamon flew behind him as quickly as he could.

* * *

Iori shut the solid wooden door behind him, shivering in the cold. He wrapped his scarf tighter around his face to warm his nose. There had been frost on his face when he'd awakened, and he counted himself lucky not to have frozen in his sleep.

He'd been to six rooms already, three of servants and three of lords or ladies in the palace, and each one of them was impossible to awaken. A thin layer of the ice crystals covered the faces, and no matter how much he had shaken them and prodded them and shouted, they'd not stirred. He placed his ear close to them and could hear a quiet, hesitant sort of breathing, assuring him that they were still alive, but not much else.

The torches in the hall were unlit, as were the fires in each room. After trying six rooms and finding the occupants of each in a similar condition, he decided that he'd best find a doctor.

As he hurried through the corridors, down and up stairwells and round corners passing empty kitchens and parlors and doors behind which he was certain lay more people, asleep and half-frozen. Why had he escaped the same fate? What if each of the doctors and wizards were also in such a state, unable to help him? What had happened?

The evil was coming closer, growing strong, this was certain from the signs. The darkening clouds had been an omen that no one could ignore, certainly not one of the Chosen. And yet its meaning was unclear. What did the clouds mean? And the ice? A dark evil was present, of this Iori was certain, and it was a far greater evil than that which had dwelt in the lands to the East.

Without magic, Iori could sense no more information, but he needed little to come to his conclusion. He reached the corridor where the medical staff both worked and resided, and knocked loudly on the door to Jyou's room.

"Doctor! You must help!" he shouted.

A door down the corridor opened and Gomamon's head appeared. "Iori? Down here!"

"Oh, thank goodness," Iori said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I was afraid Armadimon and I were the only ones alive."

"No, Jyou and I are fine, too," the digimon replied. "All of these people aren't dead, anyway. They seem to be sleeping, only."

Jyou followed his partner into the hall, shutting the door quietly behind him. "I don't think it's the cold alone that did this. I think it's some sort of magic, but I'm hardly the one who could figure that out. We'd best find Koushiro."

"If he's awake," Gomamon added, frowning.

"I don't think it's a coincidence that we were spared," Iori stated as he followed the doctor down the corridor. "I wouldn't be surprised if the spell was such that it didn't affect the Chosen."

"Is that by luck, or the design of the spell?" Armadimon wondered.

"Could be either," his partner replied.

* * *

Hikari's bedroom door was opened, and Takeru and Miyako hurried to it, peering inside to find that a small crowd had already gathered in the room. The window was wide open, and a strong, cold breeze blew into the room, carrying a few ice crystals with it.

"What's happened?" Takeru asked, gasping for breath.

Sora, Taichi, Mimi, and Yamato were gathered around the window. Unexpectedly, Taichi was completely calm, simply peering out into the lightless morning as though he were thinking about the weather.

"We're not sure," Yamato answered his brother. "Hikari's gone, and it seems to be by her own will." He gestured around the room. "There's no sign of a struggle."

"There is Dark magic though," Miyako told them. "I can see it clearly around the edge of the window, and inside the room." She squinted at the window frame and moved to take a closer look.

"Did the evil take her while she slept, then?" Mimi wondered.

"No," Taichi said. "She went willingly with it, I'm certain."

"But – but why would she do such a thing?" Sora asked.

"It was no wizard that took her," Miyako announced, turning away from the window. "Not the true evil, but something working for it. Maybe the Phantomon that came to her in the forest, or perhaps Black Tailmon once again. The darkness here is not strong enough to have caused the skies to blacken."

There was a long silence.

"She went willingly," Taichi repeated. "Hikari went willingly because she wanted to find answers, and because she didn't want anyone else to be hurt while the evil searched for her." He sighed heavily and turned away from the window, running a hand through his hair.

There was the sound of hurried footsteps in the hall then, and Iori emerged, looking breathless, relief spread across his face. "Oh, thank heavens," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"What's happened?" Taichi asked.

"Some sort of spell – a curse, I don't know," the boy replied. "It's affected everyone but the Chosen."

There was a general cacophony of gasps of amazement and shock.

Jyou emerged a moment later, also looking rather tired, having run all the way from Koushrio's basement laboratory. "It's true," he reported, the noise dying away the moment he spoke. "Everyone else in the palace – Lords, Ladies, servants, all. They sleep, a deep sleep, covered with a layer of frost."

Miyako turned pale. "My sister - !"

"Yes," Iori said, nodding gravely. "Jun as well. The only ones who are unaffected are the Chosen. And Wizarmon."

Koushiro and the digimon in question entered the room just then, the wizard carrying the parchment of prophecy in his hand, a frown on his face. He looked around the room. "I sense darkness here," he stated, glancing toward Miyako for confirmation.

After a deep, calming sigh, she nodded. "Mostly around the window," she replied, and repeated her previous statements regarding the power of the darkness.

"I smell ghost," Agumon spoke up then, his powerful olfactory senses testifying. "Faintly, but it was here. Several of them. I can't be sure, but I'd guess at least several Bakemon. Maybe Phantomon – I don't know what he smells like."

"Consider yourself lucky," Gabumon informed him, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Ghosts have a bad smell. They're too far gone for me to smell, though. I'm afraid I haven't got your sense, Agumon."

"I sense Phantomon as well," Wizarmon stated. He crossed the room, climbed on to the window seat, and stood on the windowsill, shutting his eyes for a moment. The room was silent, watching him. "I have been around ghosts enough to recognize the aura of one. Yes, they were here, and I'm certain they were the ones who took the princess." He shook his head with a sigh.

"Where did they take her?" Yamato wanted to know. "And who do they work for – the greater evil that causes the darkness?"

For a long time, there was silence as the magical digimon extended his magical senses, seeking out answers. After a long moment, he shook his head. "I don't know," he finally answered.

* * *

It was so terribly cold that Shijo had dreamt of ice and snow. When he did awaken, he found that there was a layer of thin ice over his fingers, and he was not in his bed as he'd expected, but lying on a soft, warm blanket near the edge of the river. The water was flowing steadily nearby, and a small fire was lit a few steps away from his blanket, but aside from these sounds, the valley was quiet.

It was dim, nearly dark, and Shijo felt grateful for the fire. He shivered in the cold, rubbing his arms, which were only covered with the thin fabric of his sleeping garment. He had barely had time to wonder how he had come to be there and why he was there when he heard a soft footstep not too far away.

Instinctively, he stood, eyes darting around in every direction. His Koromon partner leapt in front of him.

"There is no danger here, not from me," said a voice that he had come to recognize by now. The stranger he had seen near this river before emerged into the circle of firelight. "Any danger now is in that place." He raised one cloaked arm and pointed it toward the eastern side of the river, toward the massive prison. "There is nothing else here to harm us."

Shijo shivered, half from the cold, half from fear. "Us?" he echoed. "Who _are_ you? Why have you brought me here?"

"I'm not sure who I am," the stranger said, as he had said before. "I brought you here because you were the only one I could awaken."

This explanation offered absolutely no clarification to Shijo, and he said so, putting on a most confused expression.

"The village, in fact, perhaps the entire kingdom, appears to be enspelled in a cold sleep, a coating of ice or frost over them. I had only enough strength to break the spell of one person, and I chose you because I thought that you might be willing and able to help."

"So you are a wizard!" the boy gasped, but again the stranger shook his head.

"No," he answered. "The magic I wield is not my own. I know not from whence it came. There are gaps in my memory. For now, the only thing I am certain of is that I was told to protect the defenseless and helpless, and for that, I think I may need your help."

Shijo was silent for a moment, nodding. He turned to his partner, who nodded as best is possible for a tiny digimon who is only a head. "What shall I do?" he asked.

"The moon is nearly full," the stranger said, pointing toward a break in the dense cloud cover. "It won't be long now. There is something that I must get inside those walls before the full moon, unless we wish to wait for the next one."

* * *

Tailmon hissed viciously, lifted into the air by the harsh grip of the cloaked stranger. Black leather gloves held her up by her long white tail, dangling her many feet from the ground. A cat never likes to be held by its tail, and Tailmon was no exception to this rule, striking out viciously with her claws.

"This one is no good as is," said the one who held her. "She hasn't enough power. There has been deception at work. The master will not be pleased."

"Tell us what you have done with your _real_ partner and we may spare this one's life," hissed another feline, this one a dark black color. Black Tailmon spread her paws, allowing the firelight to glint off her paws.

"You will pay for that insult," Tailmon said, her fury causing her to nearly spit out her words. "Let me down!" she demanded of the one who held her. "Let me down and I will show her the meaning of pain."

"You haven't the strength as you are," the dark feline retorted. "It is you who would be taught a lesson."

"Enough!" commanded the cloaked stranger. "I'll have none of this bickering. This one has not the strength required."

"She is my partner," Hikari answered calmly, the calmest voice in the room. "The only one I have ever had. I don't know what deception you think I have performed."

"But there has been deception, none the less," he returned. Hikari was silent, having stated her piece. "The master will deal with you when he returns. Take her from my sight."

* * *

"If only there were some clue within the prophecy." Takeru sighed, setting aside the parchment and leaning back into his chair. With the absence of clues from Wizarmon, the Chosen had turned quickly to the only activity they thought might help them to find Hikari and to find their enemy. "Some mention of our enemy, some place to start."

"It's a prophecy of Darkness," Sora recalled. "This was written to be read by our enemy, not by us. It's a wonder it fell into our hands, but is it a blessing? I don't know that it's helped us."

"It would not have been obtained if it were not meant to be," Koushiro said, taking the prophecy from the table. "I am not certain if we are meant to do anything, yet."

"Why do you say that, Koushiro?" Sora asked.

"_When the Light has erupted_," the wizard read. "Whatever has happened, I think I can be fairly certain the there has been no eruption of light."

The door opened and Mimi entered, carrying an armful of fresh candles. Despite the fact that, for reasons of space, study was conducted within the upper-rooms rather than Koushrio's basement laboratory, the wide, open windows provided little extra light, and the candles continually needed replacing.

Takeru pushed back his chair and helped Mimi to set up the candles, increasing the dim light.

"Do you think time is running out?" Sora questioned.

Koushiro frowned, reading over the words once more. "I don't know," he answered, setting aside the paper. "I have read it a thousand times and I have discovered no further meaning. Perhaps fresh eyes might find something I have not seen."

Sora took the paper and read it, silently. Mimi stood behind her, reading over her shoulder. After a few moments, she said, "This prophecy is about Hikari?"

"Most definitely," Koushiro replied.

"She _is _the Chosen with the power of Light," Sora reminded her.

Mimi nodded. "She possesses great power then?"

"So the prophecy says."

"I see. The power that Hikari possesses can destroy the Dark Lord, then, am I right?"

"It seems that way," Sora agreed. "And yet, it says here that '_The power of the Child of Light will destroy him, _**yet**_ empower him.'_ How can destruction empower him?"

"That seems to be the greatest mystery," Koushiro agreed, rubbing his forehead with both hands.

"_Destruction is always temporary, for all shall be reborn,_" Takeru quoted, looking meaningfully at his own partner and thinking of his own destruction.

"The Dark Lord will be destroyed, but reborn?" Mimi wondered.

"Oh!" Sora realized. "When he is reborn –!"

"He will be more powerful!" Koushiro finished.

* * *

The cell was dark and damp and dirty, and Hikari felt tired. She had not eaten and the lack of food made her feel weak. Even as she though it, though, she recalled the potion Koushiro had given her.

_The darkness is strongest here,_ she realized. _If I felt weak at home, I will feel even weaker here._

She shivered in the damp cold of the underground dungeon and wrapped her arms about herself. For the first time, she began to wonder if leaving the palace was the wisest of ideas.

_I didn't want any one else to get hurt because of me,_ she reminded herself. _Yet, what good will I be, here? If whoever my enemy is, this Dark Lord, succeeds, there will be even greater suffering. What if I am too weak to be of any use here?_

_What if all my efforts are in vain? What if Daisuke is already dead? _

A fierce shiver ran down her spine, and Hikari shut her eyes, blocking out the thought. Even as she fought against it, though, sleep came and took her, and she knew no more

* * *

From the balcony, Bakemon were visible on the grounds below, moving silently between the buildings within the village. There was no sign of life from within. Everywhere, Miyako saw a thick, hazy fog of darkness that seemed to engulf the entire kingdom. No matter what direction she looked, she could see nothing but dark haze.

Hesitantly, she removed the spectacles Wizarmon had given to her from her pocket. She put them on and saw the world as it was without magic. There was not much improvement now, only a slightly brighter sort of filtered sunlight. Fearing the destruction of her sight, Miyako removed the glasses, shivering more in fear than from the cold wind that suddenly blew past her.

"We must try our best," Wizarmon said then, having appeared behind her on the balcony, carrying with him a single book. "You may have some better luck than I in finding her."

"I don't know," Miyako answered, her voice hesitant. "I had no luck in finding Daisuke."

"Still, there are many spells you have not tried," the digimon replied. "Cast again the one that you have already attempted. It harnessed the power of the wind, you said?"

She nodded, and shut her eyes, gathering the power of the wind to her and listening to all that it had to say. Far to the north, a storm was brewing along the border, a powerful blizzard. To the east, sandstorms had begun again to rage in the distant desert. To the west, and the sea, the waves crashed heavily against the rocky cliffs. Everywhere, there was little life in the kingdom, and the wind reported that villages everywhere suffered the same fate as those within the palace, covered with a thin sheet of ice, deep in the deepest sleep.

To the south, there was only silence, and yet, somewhere within the endless expanse of space filled only with helpless villagers and lords alike, there was a tiny spark of life.

So tiny was it that Miyako paid it no heed and only thought to return to it a moment later. The wind gathered itself around this one location, and Miyako increased the power of the wind through her magic, seeking out the life she had sensed.

There was certainly a vicious storm within this area now, and Miyako was thankful that the villagers were all asleep within their beds and not out and about. Still – one of them must be, or she would not have sensed life.

There was a brief spark of magic then, as well, and Miyako would have given up then, certainly, for it was Dark magic and not the sort which she was accustomed. The spark grew stronger and then Miyako was aware of not one tiny bit of life, but two. Whoever controlled the magic she had sensed had somehow brought to life another creature – another villager.

_For what purpose would a Dark wizard do such a thing_? she wondered, and while her mind wrapped itself around the spark of magic, around the being which had used it, she became aware of a familiarity she had not felt in some time.

For several months, Miyako had sensed this magic nearly every day, and what she could feel now was not the same and yet not different. Each wizard, each mage, each being that was possessing of magic had a unique sort of magic, a unique feel, a unique way in which their power operated, in which their magic looked. This magic, Miyako was quite certain she would never forget.

So stunned was she that she let go of the power of the wind and released the magic she'd been holding. With a gasp of surprise and shock, Miyako opened her eyes, forgetting about the magic. To the astonishment of Wizarmon, she spoke only one name, and it was not either of the names he had expected.

"Ken!"

* * *

A heavy door slammed shut with a bang, and Hikari opened her eyes. She didn't know how long she had been sleeping, but it felt as though it were not for very long. She had not dreamed and she had no memory of sleep, only of shutting her eyes and then opening them. She shut them again.

Someone, somewhere – it felt as though the real world were thousands of miles away – was taking her head and gently lifting it. Somewhere, something was being placed against her lips and cold water was pouring into her throat.

She coughed, suddenly aware of the water, and sat up, pushing away whoever it was that was giving her the water. "What - ?" she managed to say, and then collapsed into a fit of coughing.

"Drink," said a voice, a soft whisper of a voice.

Hikari felt as though she had breathed in a pile of dust. She took the small mug that was thrust into her hands and drank, thankful for the cool liquid that soothed her parched lips and throat.

The one who had brought the water to her knelt nearby, waiting for her to finish. When she had drank all the water, she turned. It was not a ghost, nor a digimon, nor the cloaked stranger, but a plain, dirty-looking boy dressed only in rags.

"Who are you?" she asked, and despite the water, her voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

He said nothing, however, only took the mug back from her and had left before she could say another word.

* * *

Miyako felt exhausted, drained of her magical energies after so many spells.

Wizarmon was watching her with concern. "Perhaps that is enough for today, milady," he suggested.

A blast of strong wind threatened to blow them both from the balcony. Miyako gripped the protective railing with one hand. The wind died down. "I think you may be right," she said, sighing deeply. "I have sensed nothing of Hikari. I hope she is not beyond our help."

"You did sense _something_, however," Wizarmon reminded her as they both returned inside. "Something alive - ?"

She shook her head dismissively. "Not what I was searching for," she answered quickly. "Nothing that will help us now. It's best not to think of it, even."

* * *

The sun had risen and trekked across the sky and sunk again in the west, and through it all there was no change in the light nor the temperature. Shijo stared up at the grey sky, scarcely able to believe that an entire day had passed.

He'd spent the whole of it along the edge of the river. There was no sign of fish in the water below him. Nothing but Bakemon had come in and out of the prison and passed along the road, going to the village and then out, endlessly patrolling the land. Shijo stayed hidden in the thick brush and grass at the edge of the river and waited.

The stranger had left some time around what might have been midday. His parting instructions had been simply to remain hidden and quiet. He'd said nothing of where he would go or when he had return. Although Shijo knew that he had little choice in the manner, some part of him still wondered if it was safe to trust this strange visitor.

"I have brought you some nourishment," said a voice then, interrupting his thoughts. Shijo had been so intent upon watching the Bakemon that he had not noticed the stranger's return. He carried a small bundle in one hand, and he held it out now to the boy as though it were a peace offering.

Shijo had eaten nothing all day, and he took the bundle from the stranger without questioning, only a bow of thanks and a muffled word of gratitude before he began to eat. "Where have you been all day?" he asked when he had paused long enough to take a breath.

"Surveying," the stranger answered. "The only beings roaming about are the Bakemon, and it'll be difficult, if not impossible, to get past them and into the building." He turned to face the formidable black prison behind him.

With his mouth half-stuffed with a loaf of bread, Shijo wondered: "What is it you want to bring inside, anyway?"

From within the folds of his cloak, the stranger produced an object. It was a small, wide, golden-colored ring, slightly too large to be worn as a bracelet. "This," he answered.

Shijo took the object in his hands and examined it. Even in the dim light, it seemed to glow, to emit some sort of a dim light. "It feels warm to touch," he realized as he held it. "What – what is it?"

"Who does it belong to?" Koromon wanted to know, peering up from his partner's lap.

The stranger simply shook his head. "The gaps in my memory are too large for me to recall. I'm fairly certain, however, that someone in there does know, and can return it to its rightful owner." Again, his eyes moved toward the prison.

"It can't be evil," the boy thought aloud, turning it over in his hands. "It feels too…too good. What could its owner be doing imprisoned in there?"

"Nothing pleasant, I assure you," the stranger answered. "I set to you the task of bringing this to the person that needs it. Can you?"

* * *

The day had passed and the sun sank, unseen, in the western sky, hidden by the fog of dark magic and cloud-cover. Miyako paid only partial attention to Koushiro as he spoke of the progress that had been made determining the meaning of the prophecy, and even less attention to the discussion that followed it. Her mind was wandering many days' journey from the spot on which she now stood.

A shiver ran down her spine at the sight of another Bakemon floating below the window. All day, the ghostly digimon had been moving around the palace, for some reason incapable of entering. Miyako supposed it had something to do with magical barriers, but was too preoccupied to think any further on the subject.

"There's been no luck reviving any of the others," Jyou was saying, and it was at these words that Miyako's attention returned to the conversation. "It's as you said, Koushiro, a spell of some sort, and nothing I've tried can wake them." He shook his head, glumly. "For the moment, everyone seems to be fine, but a few days without food or water and that will change."

"So we need to work quickly," Yamato concluded. Whatever else he or anyone else said, though, was lost to Miyako, who had caught sight of another ghost outside and watched its progress, absently following it across the grounds.

'_I wonder if Ken knows what's going on,'_ she thought to herself, and allowed her mind to drift even farther away from the room she was in now. It felt like only moments later that a hand on her shoulder awakened her from her trance.

"You've been quiet," Sora said, sitting on the window seat beside her. "What is it that worries you now? Everything?"

The room had emptied, the meeting was over. Apparently, the others had decided to sleep for the evening. Miyako sighed deeply. "Everything and more," she answered simply.

"Made no progress – found nothing today? Wizarmon didn't say."

"I found something," the younger girl responded, getting up from her seat and turning away from the window. She wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. The fire was slowly dying and the room was growing colder. Seeing this, she moved closer to the fireplace.

Sora was pleased and surprised. "Oh? Why didn't you say anything? Was it something helpful?"

Miyako shook her head, shutting her eyes. After a moment of concentration, the blaze grew stronger and the fire's warmth and light again bathed the room.

"What was it then?"

Despite the warmth, Miyako shivered as she turned from the fire. "Ken," she answered, her voice barely a whisper. When Sora didn't immediately reply, she continued, "I sensed nothing else alive and awake in this kingdom – at least as far as my senses could reach – as far as the wind travels. South of here, however, I sensed life. A tiny spark of it, but life nonetheless, and a life not bound by the same spell as the rest of the kingdom."

"And that was Ken?"

She nodded. "I recognized the feel of his magic instantly. It's the same – and yet, different. I think – I don't know what to think. I'm happy he's alive, but the magic – the magic confuses me."

Sora nodded but was silent, absorbing the news.

"This only raises more questions instead of answering them!" Miyako said, her voice showing her frustration. She took a deep breath. "He's good, I'm certain of it. Whatever it was that made him into the Kaiser, it was nothing from inside of him – it was some outside force – and that force gave him the magic. It wasn't his, I don't think. I don't know. If it was, it would have been dormant as long as my own. It's still there, though, the magic, and he still has some use of it."

"He's used the magic? How do you know?"

"I felt another life."

* * *

Another gracious thank you to the readers who put up with my meandering rambles and the endless delays in posting this stuff. I'm working on it, I promise!

That aside, I must apologize for the insane lameness of the conventions of style that I use. Bah! Gah! I'm halfway between admiring myself and running away and denouncing that it wasn't me at all, but someone else using my name to write this stuff.

Ah, I'll take credit. Thanks for reading it. More will come soon, I swear!

Ja ne.


	10. The Second Day The Longest Journey Into ...

**Enter The Light**

**Part Ten**: The Second Day – The Longest Journey into Night

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Digimon is not mine. Plot is. Short, sweet, to the point. _PLEASE_ don't steal, it's really the only thing I own. :sobs pitifully:

* * *

Hikari had no knowledge of how much time had passed. She might have spent only minutes sleeping, or it might have been hours or even days. There was only the dim light of a single torch near the door to give her view of her surroundings, no windows to mark the time, no noise from beyond the door.

Now though, her energy seemed revitalized – even with only a few sips of water to drink since she'd arrived. She had slept and now she was awake, staring dully at the thick stone walls that surrounded her, wondering what had happened in the rest of the world, what had happened to her partner, what had happened to the other Chosen, what had happened to Daisuke. No answers and no insight came to her, and she felt weak and hungry.

There was hideous screeching sound of metal upon metal, coming from the heavy iron door. Hikari thought to stand, to meet head on whatever was entering the cell, but her muscles didn't seem willing to cooperate, and she found herself unable to muster the energy or the will to stand.

The door swung open slowly and three Bakemon entered. Hikari thought to be frightened or angry, but had not the energy to act upon these feelings. The ghosts moved aside, the door shut sharply behind them, and a single figure stood in the middle of where they had once been.

It was the boy that had given her water earlier – a day ago, a minute, a year, Hikari wasn't certain, but she recognized him. Even now, seeing him face on, it was difficult to describe him in anyway that was appropriate. The only defining characteristic seemed to be that he was dressed, as before, in only the ragged and tattered remains of what were probably not the nicest clothes to begin with. He carried a wooden bucket in both his hands.

"You again," she managed to say, surprised that her voice worked at all, and surprised that it was barely a whisper.

He didn't speak, only bowed deeply in greeting and knelt before her, opening the bucket. There was a small mug and bottle of water, and he filled the mug with the cool liquid and handed it to her. Hikari took the cup with hesitant hands, her fingers feeling weak and her hands shaking, but she didn't spill it and she brought it to her mouth and drank.

The water was tastier than any water she had ever had before – and that included the water she had first drank after she had trekked through the desert for an entire night at the whims of a group of controlled Veggiemon. "Thank you," she said then. "Why are you – who are you? Why have you brought me this?"

He took a small wooden box from within the bucket and opened it, removing a few small pieces of fresh, still warm bread. He held these out to her, extending his arm. She didn't take them immediately, and he waited.

"Why ?" Hikari asked again.

"It is the wish of my master," he said, turning his head away as though such a statement were punishable by death.

This offered no clarification. Hikari shook her head to clear the fog from her mind, but it didn't much help. "Why does your master wish to bring me water and bread?"

A small shrug. "A slave knows not his master's motives or thoughts, only his orders."

She took the bread – the smell of it was causing her stomach to turn about several times, and she could no longer offer much resistance to offered food. At the words, though, she halted and asked: "A slave? But - ."

His silence was enough of an answer. Hikari remembered a conversation she'd had many months ago and chose not to argue. The smell of the bread lured her to eat, and she finally took a bite.

The taste of it was better than the smell, and to one as hungry as she was it smelled and tasted like a feast. When she had finished it, though, she turned her mind again to the one who had brought it. He had gone though, as silently as he'd entered, leaving behind the bottle of water.

* * *

Shortly after what would have been dawn, Miyako awoke in the darkness, shivering under the blankets. The fire she had lit before she'd fallen asleep had died, and she sat up, mustering her magical energies enough to reignite the flames.

There was noise outside her door, of hurried footsteps and conversation, and she hurried about, dressing herself as quickly as was possible, sure to wear a few extra pairs of socks. She opened the door just as Takeru was about to knock on it, and it was only his quick reflexes that saved Miyako from a significant tap to the face.

"What's the commotion?" she wondered, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

Takeru blinked at her, a blank expression on her face. Miyako had the feeling she'd missed something of significant importance at the previous evening's meeting. "We're leaving, in about an hour…," he said in the sort of tone one usually takes when reminding someone of something they ought to know already.

"We?" Miyako echoed, blankly. She'd definitely missed something.

"All of us," he clarified, still speaking in the same tone. "Are you feeling all right? You seemed a bit…." He trailed off, uncertain of the correct word, and shrugged.

"Ah, yes." Nodding, Miyako turned to shut the door behind her. "Leaving…uh…where are we going?"

* * *

All night, Shijo had stayed awake, watching and listening the Bakemon float past him, shivering in part from the cold and in part from his own anxious fears. He had thought long and hard on how he was to get the golden ring inside the prison without attracting the attention of the ghostly guards, but he had come to no conclusions.

Now as the sun slowly made its appearance, hiding the almost-full moon, Shijo turned to his partner Koromon with a grim expression. "It can't be done," he announced simply. "It can't be done. It's not possible to get into that building without the Bakemon noticing."

Koromon yawned, watching his partner with some concern. "What will you do then?"

"The only way to get into the building is by way of the Bakemon," the boy replied, a strange grin on his face. Koromon frowned, not entirely pleased with this decision. A strange sound could be heard from behind the boy, and when he turned to see what it was, he saw that the stranger had returned and was standing there.

The strange noise had been a single chuckle, swallowed almost before it had escaped. Shijo had never heard the stranger laugh before, and stared blankly for a moment before he ventured to speak.

"What's funny?" he demanded.

"You remind me of someone I once knew," the stranger answered, the humor completely gone from his voice. "He would have suggested the same thing, now that I think of it. It seems my memory may be returning to me."

"Do you think it's a good idea then?" Shijo questioned, confused.

There was a long silence, and the stranger turned to face the towering black prison. He seemed to be thoughtful. "It is dangerous and it brings great risk to you," he answered finally, and let out the same half-laugh sort of sound. Then, he shrugged his shoulders. "Still, you will get inside. If you're prepared to accept the risks and the pain that will surely come, then do it."

* * *

Even beneath the warmth of not only her thickest cloak but also a warm blanket, Miyako felt cold. Sora huddled next to her, sharing the blanket. The back of the wagon was open and cold, but it was the only vehicle that would carry all the Chosen on their journey.

They were traveling south, towards the place where Miyako had sensed Ken's presence. It would seem that this was the same place where both Koushiro and Wizarmon had sensed a great darkness coming from – possibly the source of the spell that had affected the entire kingdom, and possibly where Hikari (and perhaps Daisuke as well) was now located. According to Takeru, all of this had been discussed, planned, and agreed upon the evening before, which explained why Miyako had known nothing about it.

The countryside was eerily quiet, and when Miyako ventured to look beyond the edge of the wagon, she saw only a dim gray haze. Not long after their departure, they came upon a wagon that had been stopped at the side of the road. The driver of the cart and his partner had both fallen asleep, the same thin layer of ice over their bodies. The pair of Monochromon that had been pulling the cart were still awake, munching calmly on blades of grass, content to wait for their driver to awaken and decide to move again.

They drove on, having decided that they could do nothing for the driver as they had been able to do nothing for those at the palace. Mimi shivered, looking back at the wagon as it slowly disappeared into the heavy fog behind them. "Who would do such a thing?" she wondered. "And why?"

No one had any satisfactory answer to give her. Before long, they would find out who and why.

* * *

From the comfort and safety of a perch within a tree, two pairs of eyes watched as a small figure made its way across the bridge that separated the town from the prison and the eastern hills. Even from such a distance, the boy was obviously nervous, his steps slow and hesitant, his gaze wary as it leapt from bush to rock to tree.

"I'm not sure you ought to have let him do this," said a small green caterpillar resting on a branch. "It sounds very dangerous…."

The figure beside him sighed, slowly lowering the hood of his cloak. "I'm not sure it's the wisest of ideas, either. Still, he volunteered, and I must admit…."

The caterpillar waited.

A shrug. "I haven't any better plans. I can't slip past the Bakemon undetected, and nor can he. Even when I have made myself visible to the ghosts, they seem not to be interested in me, only interested in driving me away from the walls. But this boy - ."

Both figures turned their gaze to the ghosts below. Five had been circling the walls of the prison before Shijo had begun his approach. Now, he reached the end of the spindly wooden bridge and waited, steeling his courage for the last steps to the doors. Immediately, the Bakemon turned, seeing him.

Before he could take another breath, the boy was surrounded by the ghosts as though he had been bait dropped in the midst of a pool of hungry fish. So thick was the crowd of ghosts that Shijo could not be seen from the tree.

"I sure hope they don't kill him," the caterpillar fretted.

"No, they won't kill him," returned the other, but he had gotten to his feet, perching perilously on the branch he'd been sitting on before. "I think that whatever that object I found was, it's something the Bakemon have been searching for."

The caterpillar nodded, accepting this statement. "You didn't have it with you when you approached the walls before? What do you think it is?"

He shook his head in answer to both statements. "I don't know." For a moment he was silent. The crowd of Bakemon, the boy in the center of it all, moved toward the prison building. Strange and eerie noises came from within, but no shouts of pain or fear. The massive gates opened and the huddle disappeared, the gates slamming shut behind.

For a moment, there was silence. In the west, the sun was slowly drooping behind them as the day grew ever closer to night. "Its out of your hands now, then," the caterpillar said with a sigh.

The other sat down once more on the branch "Whatever it is, it doesn't belong with the Bakemon or whoever is giving them orders," he stated with certainty. "As the boy said, it is full of something good. And yet, it also is quite powerful."

"What do you think it could be?"

"I don't know." He shut his dark eyes for a moment, thinking. "It might destroy the Bakemon and wake the people. Do you think ?"

"I hope."

"Hope…."

* * *

Bakemon seemed to emit of coldness, for being closer to them prompted Shijo to feel colder the closer he got to them. If he'd had any magical senses, he might have guessed the coldness to be the air of darkness, but he had no experience with evil, and no experience with any sort of magic at all. He shivered, surrounded by the pack of ghosts, his skin feeling cold, clammy, and icy to the touch.

He had hidden the object – the strange golden ring – in a pocket, and he felt some sort of warmth against his leg now in the face of the coldness of the ghosts. Shijo jammed his hand into the pocket of his trousers and felt the warmth of it envelop his fingers. It was but a faint warmth, but enough to invigorate the muscles of his fingers.

The Bakemon began to make strange noises. Before, they had been laughing, a creepy sort of sound that would have sent shivers down the spine of any human even if they had been in the midst of an arid, hot desert. Now, though, they were making odd moaning noises, communicating amongst themselves with some sort of undead language that Shijo couldn't begin to fathom.

Suddenly, one of the Bakemon changed slightly the pitch of the moaning that it was producing. The others began to follow this change in pitch, each one at a time, until the entire crowd was mumbling and moaning in this new register. Then, they began to move, the crowd slowly closing in on the boy. He stepped backwards, away from a wall of ghosts, and realized that they were leading him somewhere, attempting to push him to go in a certain direction.

He couldn't see which way they were headed through the wall of Bakemon, but he hoped they were heading for the prison.

* * *

Miyako felt a headache beginning to form beneath her skull. She was uncertain if it was the dark magic which affected her or if it was only from a lack of sleep. Her vision was blurred and her eyes were tired of having to squint through the dark haze that became deeper with every step of the Monochromon.

For brief periods, she donned the spectacles that Wizarmon had given her, and they did help her to see better, but for the most part, she was content to shut out the outside world and ride with her eyes shut, feeling the steady movement of the wagon wheels over the rocks and through the squishing mud.

All the while she could feel the darkness growing stronger and could tell that they were most definitely headed for the source of it all.

The others could feel it as well. Taichi's headaches had grown stronger, and Koushiro confessed he felt a bit nauseous – and it wasn't due to the movement of the wagon. Wizarmon said nothing of his feelings, but his grim expression told all that he, too, could sense the growing darkness.

Even those who were without magical senses knew something of the danger that surrounded them. Takeru had an uneasy feeling in his stomach and his skin felt cold and clammy to the touch. He wrapped his coat around him and felt too warm, and yet when he removed it, he shivered and felt cold. Within the back of his mind was the feeling that all was not as it should be – that something was terribly wrong. It was a feeling he was not well acquainted with, and could only remember experiencing once before – when his partner had been deleted, before he had been reformed as an egg. Memories of that event still made him ill to think about it, and yet now it felt as though he was reliving the event once more.

The rest of them were nervous and uneasy as well. Iori kept himself busy peering over maps he had brought, charting their progress as they traveled south, even though it wasn't likely they'd get lost on the main road. Jyou was rummaging endlessly through his medical bag, engaged in a continuous inventory of his supplies. Yamato shared the duties of driving, and his eyes were constantly alert, scanning the horizon for any sign of danger, usually a Bakemon drifting across the road. Mimi huddled next to Miyako, wrapped tightly in her own cloak, shivering in the cold and strangely silent. Sora was worrying about Taichi, constantly looking at him with worried eyes and wringing her hands together.

The Bakemon themselves were constantly wafting along the edges of the road, coming into view for only brief periods of time before gliding away. The Monochromon were nervous, as were all the other digimon. Everyone – human and digimon alike, began to get the strange sensation that they were being watched and followed by the ghosts.

And the sun slowly sank lower into the sky, bringing nightfall ever closer.

* * *

When the crowd of Bakemon had moved away, Shijo could see only heavy stone walls. He felt disoriented and cold, the result, he concluded, of having spent too much time surrounded by the ghosts. A small insect of some sort moved across the stones near his feet, and he felt nauseous as well as cold.

"I'm very curious…," said a voice, a deep voice, and he looked up to see yet another man dressed in a dark cloak, eyes and face hidden from his view. "Very curious as to how it is you managed to escape the effects of the spell. You don't seem to be a wizard of any sort."

Shijo found that he was shivering and shaking rather violently – not only from the cold, and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. It didn't accomplish much. He shook his head in a vague response to the statement, but didn't yet trust himself to speak.

"I also have it on good authority that you are not a Chosen, unless you are one which has not yet been discovered."

"Ch-chosen, sir?" Shijo managed to echo blankly. The word meant little to him. Chosen for what? Perhaps Chosen was the name given to those who would become wizards someday?

The figure had turned away from him briefly, and now turned back towards him. Beneath the hood of the cloak he could see two dark eyes glaring at him with some intensity. Shijo felt his body grow even colder and he felt stiff, unable to move. "You carry something with you – something which does not belong to you. Tell me, child, why did you venture _toward_ this place instead of away from it?"

Shijo felt as though every bit of his body was compelling him to state his entire purpose to the one who now questioned him – to explain everything that had happened to him since he'd awakened to find the rest of the village asleep. He felt the object in his pocket grow heavier and warmer, and he shivered.

"You carry something," said the man, as though he had read his thoughts. "As I had suspected. Boy!"

At this abrupt summons another creature appeared from within the shadows – a haggard looking creature clothed only in rags and looking rather shabby and thin. Shijo thought briefly that to call it a boy was a compliment of sorts and rather stretching the definition of the word. He seemed rather an ageless creature – not clearly defined by the word boy or man, although most definitely human and the first Shijo had seen since awakening that was not hidden by the hood of a cloak or fast asleep.

His features were altogether unremarkable, but his eyes – the eyes were a thousand times more vivid and aware than the rest of the body, and Shijo found himself drawn into them, and his mind stretched toward them, seeking something recognizable. Some part of his distant memory called out to him – urging him to seek something to identify with those eyes, and yet he could not. The effort left him tired.

"He possesses what I seek," stated the man simply. "Take it from him and bring him to her. Then, bring the object to me." Then he was gone, disappeared into the shadows of the room. A bang sounded, a door slamming.

Shijo was overcome with a burst of confidence. If this boy, this thin, weak creature, was going to try to take the object from him? He could easily defend himself against this one! He had been in fights with the village boys, defended himself and his brothers and sister against the rougher bullies and survived without much more than a few scrapes and scratches. Yet when he tried to move, to lift his hands, he found it impossible. The more he attempted to struggle, the more exhausted he felt, and yet there was no movement.

A spell of some sort? He could only guess – he had no experience with magic and no idea what it felt to be enspelled or what it took to cast a spell. The boy assigned to the task reached within his pocket then and removed the object, the golden ring, an effortless task that was easily and quickly accomplished.

"No!" Shijo managed to gasp. "I'm supposed to – I have to give that to the person it belongs to!"

Surprisingly, the boy stopped and turned his gaze toward Shijo. Though his facial expression was one of bland disinterest and mindless obedience, his eyes seemed to show some emotion – confusion, perhaps, or surprise? It was difficult to tell. The moment passed, he blinked, and then his eyes were as the rest of him – resigned.

Again, Shijo felt a tug in his memory, but it wasn't strong enough for him to do anything about.

* * *

An endless amount of immeasurable time had passed, and nothing had changed. Hikari had finished a thorough examination of the walls she could see with her eyes and was now beginning to start on the rest of the walls, using only the sense of touch. The room was small and, she suspected, inescapable, and yet she took her time, feeling along the stone should there perhaps be some clue.

The corner of the tiny cell nearest the door was lit by a torch that had burned brightly since her arrival. Unless less time had passed than she suspected, Hikari guessed that it was lit with magic, for it had not shrunk or gone out, and no one had entered to replace it. The rest of the room was without distinguishing features. There were stone walls and a stone floor, covered with dust and a thin layer of dirt. The thought of being there made her shiver partly from fear and partly from a slight disgust.

She was beginning to wonder if she had made the right decision.

The door was swung open heavily, and it slammed noisily into the wall behind it. Hikari turned to face it and was surprised to find that another human entered the cell. To say that he was thrown would not have been an exaggeration, for he landed with a heavy thud on the hard stone floor.

For a moment, he lay still and silent, and Hikari was frightened that perhaps her visitor was a corpse. Then he groaned and slowly got to his feet. A few Bakemon stood in the doorway, giggling in the eerie sort of way that sent shivers down the spine of anything living. They disappeared, shutting the door behind them only seconds before the boy thrust his fists against the heavy metal.

"No! Give it back! It's not supposed to be given to you!"

It didn't take a genius to determine that the Bakemon weren't going to heed his words or follow his orders, and the boy wisely abandoned his attempt. He turned and sat down hard, leaning back against the door. "Well," he said then. "It was futile. Still, anything else would have been, too, right?"

"What was futile?" Hikari asked.

The boy looked up, surprised at the sound of the voice and then once more at the source of it. "I know you!" he gasped with some astonishment. "I know you!"

* * *

"The sun will set before long and then there will only be tomorrow before the full moon appears," stated the small green digimon.

"I know," said young man beside him, face turned westerly, tinted orange from the glow of the sun.

For a long time there was no sound. The already quiet riverbanks were silent except for the quiet hum of water running steadily.

Then, the figure stood, again perched on a branch, and turned to the north, squinting his eyes, perhaps in hope of seeing something, perhaps because he thought he _did_ see something. The caterpillar watched him for a time before he ventured to speak.

"Do you see something, Ken?"

* * *

"Are we almost there?" Mimi asked, voice barely a whisper in the silence of the encroaching evening. It was growing ever colder as the sun sank lower. Now nearly darkness, the small caravan had slowed to a crawl and yet no one had spoken of stopping for the night.

"Can you tell, Miyako?" Hawkmon questioned of his partner, huddled for warmth under a thick blanket.

"I feel the darkness growing stronger," Miyako answered, venturing to open one eye and squint through the dark hazy air at Mimi. "We can't be much further away now."

"Is there any sign of Daisuke or Hikari?" Palmon wanted to know. Mimi lifted her digivice, but it was as silent as ever, emitting no extra noises or lights. She shook her head.

There was a creaking noise as the beleaguered wooden wheels slowly turned over another time, but all else was silent. Mimi felt her eyes grow heavy, and she yawned.

"I hear something," said Patamon then, titling his head and squinting in concentration.

"What is it?" Takeru asked when his partner didn't immediately continue.

"I'm not sure," he answered. "It sounds like – wings. Like a lot of little wings, all beating in the sky, coming this way."

"I don't like the sound of that," Jyou said, shivering. Takeru had already crawled across to the back, open end of the wagon and was peering out. "What do you see?"

"Nothing, yet," Takeru answered, turning his head to look in all directions. "Are you sure what you heard, Patamon?"

The small digimon nodded. "I'm certain. Look up."

He did so.

Mimi shrieked, causing Yamato to tug sharply on the reins and bring the wagon to a halt. "What – are those things?"

* * *

Hopefully, this isn't _too_ obvious. It is to me, but that's because I'm writing it and I know what's really going on. Heh.

To the kind reviewer who told me I am misspelling Koushiro or Koushirou's name, I would take your comments much more seriously if you could either a) back them up with hard evidence or b) actually manage to spell some words correctly in your review. I found no evidence that your claim is correct. Also, it's customary in reviews to actually say something about the story you're reviewing. Thank you.

To the rest of you, thanks for reading, etc. Warn me if the plot becomes too unbearably predictable for you. I'm actually going to be quite cruel for a while and give few clues as to what is or has happened to Daisuke. I hope you can manage to deal with that for a little while at least. If you can guess the truth, great! Eventually, I'll reveal all….


	11. The Night of the Full Moon

**Enter The Light**

**Part Eleven:** The Night of the Full Moon

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie:** _Digimon_, not mine, which includes all characters, plots, digimon, merchandise, etc. There are a few original characters in this, which are all mine, mwahah, and also the plot belongs to me. Please don't sue or steal. Thank you, Enjoy!

* * *

When the sun rose in the morning it again was unseen by all who dwelt under it. The soft sound of wings flapping that Patamon had heard in the night was loud enough now to be heard by even human ears.

Yamato had continued driving through the night, unwilling to stop, and though he was tired, he had no intent to sleep. The wagon wheels continued turning, occasionally squeaking and squelching as they made their way over soft, thick mud and hard stones. The night had been silent and dark, with no view of the moon, yet he felt no need for the light. This road south was unfamiliar to him, but he followed it, and he followed the directions of Wizarmon, who guided them all towards the source of the darkness.

There was only a dim and hazy light in the morning, and it seemed as though a fog was growing with every passing second. The need for urgency increased, but there was little action. The Monochromon that pulled the wagon were exhausted, and that coupled with their fear to make the going quite slow. Sometime after the invisible dawn had come and gone, the massive digimon set their feet down and refused to lift them again. Yamato sighed and let the reins fall slack. He knew that there was no point in threatening, urging, or shouting. They were tired after pulling the wagon all day and night and far too exhausted to continue.

The others had slept only in brief spurts during the night, kept awake by the ever increasing sound of wings overhead as much as their own fear and anxiousness for the coming events. Only Mimi, Miyako, and Sora now had their eyes shut, enjoying a brief nap.

Taichi did his best to ignore the ever increasing throb in his head as he climbed down from the wagon and stretched his tired limbs. He glanced upward at the sky, expecting to see the haze of clouds as before, but what was truly there was not what he expected. The sky was covered by a massive, dark, moving substance of small black creatures, hovering together so that they were virtually indistinguishable. They had seen them, only briefly, the night before, and then they had disappeared into the blackness of night. Now, however, it was plain to see that there were millions of the creatures, so many as to darken the sun.

With a gasp, Taichi suddenly remembered part of the prophecy he had read: "_The sun and the sky covered…."_

"_By the wings of many bats,_" Koushiro finished, emerging from the wagon as he spoke. He shook his head slowly. "It is an omen, I should think."

"_Has_ the light erupted, then?" Takeru wondered, also exiting the wagon. He thought about the prophecy, trying to recall the words from his memory. "I thought that the wings of many bats are supposed to appear after the light had erupted?"

"I wish I knew what the light erupting meant," Taichi muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Prophecies are often confusing, and they often leave out parts," he told Takeru. "I'm not sure we ought to trust this prophecy entirely."

"A wise decision indeed, sire," said a voice from overhead. "Trust not prophecy in this time of uncertainty if it comes not from yourself."

"Who are you?" several voices questioned at once. Yamato placed one hand on the hilt of his sword, always at the ready, fastened to his belt.

The source of the voice emerged from within the treetops. It belonged to a solitary figure, indistinguishable in features, clad in a dark cloak that seemed to envelop its entire body and become part of the life itself. "It's not important. I have not come to attack you or to harm you. The Bakemon are my enemies as much as yours."

"Why have you come then?" Taichi questioned, stepping forward. "How is it you have escaped the sleep spell that has silenced everyone else?"

"I am no wizard," answered the other. "I have no answers. I have come to warn you that it will not be safe in this area tonight, not for those who sleep or those who are awake."

"Why do you say that?" Koushiro questioned.

"The full moon is tonight," replied the figure. "The full moon will appear tonight and all magic will be strengthened. Surely a wizard would know this much."

There was a silence for a long moment, while the others took in this information. Although Koushiro had indeed known about the power of a full moon, he had not known that it would be that very night.

"The place you seek as the source of the magic lies south east of here, near the foot of the hills. It is a heavily fortified building, surrounded by the ghosts, and it holds at least three that ought not to be there."

Iori consulted his map for a few moments and then looked up. "You speak of the prison at the edge of the village?" he questioned, and the other nodded.

"_Three_ that ought not be there?" Taichi echoed. "Who are they and how do you know this?"

The visitor's response was only a shrug. "This I cannot tell you," he answered. "I hope you are prepared." With that, he was gone, disappearing into the shadowy treetops as silently as he had appeared.

* * *

Though he had eaten little and slept even less in the tiny cell than he had in all the time awake in the outside world, Shijo was not tired, and he did not sleep all night. He sat below the dim, flickering torch, thinking about the things he had seen and learned the evening before. 

He had met the young woman he now shared the cell with before, although he hadn't known that she was the Princess. He had known nothing of the Chosen, nor of what battles they had fought to defend the kingdom. Hikari had told him all of that, and then she had succumbed to sleep before he could tell his own complicated story. It was just as well, he thought, because he didn't know quite where to begin or how to explain most of it.

One thing seemed certain, and that was that the item he'd allowed to be so easily taken from his hands belonged to the princess. Who else could it belong to? Shijo concluded, for he had seen no other prisoners within these thick walls and it could not belong to the only two humans he had seen, nor to the Bakemon.

Was that stranger within the black cloak – who had cast some sort of spell upon him, making it so impossible for him to move – even a human? Perhaps he was not. In any event, it seemed unlikely that the mysterious golden ring could belong to him, for in his presence, even the boy, who had no magic and no experience with evil, could sense the cold dark power that the mysterious figure seemed to embody.

'_Maybe it was a stupid idea, anyway,_' Shijo thought, thinking of the heavy stone walls and the iron door that stood between him and the object now. Untold numbers of Bakemon no doubt tirelessly floated through the narrow, dark corridors at all hours, an even greater barrier to freedom than the walls themselves.

* * *

Miyako sensed something strange in the air aside from the overwhelming sense of darkness. She awoke in the dim light, feeling stiff and tired from only a few hours rest on the hard, cold wood of the wagon floor. Exhausted and groggy as she was, it took her a few moments to jar her memory and make sense of the things she felt, and then she became aware of a magic she had not felt so close by for some time. 

Forgetting her aches and pains, she pulled herself to her feet and left the wagon. Mimi and Sora were still asleep, and she let them and Hawkmon lie, for they would likely need their energy. The others were mulling around, setting up a makeshift camp, preparing a meal, discussing plans. Koushiro and Wizarmon were examining the prophecy yet again, talking about the rolled parchment in hushed, whispered tones.

The wagon had stopped, the Monochromon too exhausted to continue, in a small clearing at the edge of the main road. Although it wasn't likely that any other travelers would soon pass them, Yamato had led the weary creatures to the side of the path and released them from the wagon.

Miyako stood, unnoticed, for a few moments near the wagon, looking around. She turned her head slowly in each direction and then walked toward the trees that were at the opposite edge of the road. Squinting through the darkness, she appeared to be trying to make sense of a space between the branches when Koushiro and Wizarmon both noticed that she had awakened and followed her.

"Miyako?" Koushiro questioned, his voice lined with a curious concern.

She held up a hand for a moment, squinting harder through the cloud of magic, as though searching for something hidden within the fog. After a moment, she shook her head and shut her eyes, seeking the magic with her other senses. "Someone was here…."

As though he had just seen the dead return to life, the wizard's mouth slowly dropped open for a split second before he composed himself. "Yes," he answered simply. "Who?"

Miyako turned sharply and looked at him with a searching gaze, as though wondering if he were trustworthy. Koushiro seemed even more astonished with this act than her previous statement. After a moment of silence and thoughts, she shook her head and turned away. "I'm not yet certain," she answered vaguely.

"Someone you know?" Wizarmon questioned boldly.

"Maybe."

* * *

There was still a long journey to travel if they were to get to the place the stranger had described before the night came on. Night was already upon them, but it was an artificial sort of night, and the moon was not visible through the covering of bats. 

Mimi was nervous and frightened of the masses above them. She looked upward for long stretches, watching them, afraid that they would certainly come soaring downward and attack before long. The rest of the time, she kept her eyes planted on the ground at her feet, too afraid to look upwards and see the impending doom.

It made the others nervous as well, and they traveled in a tight formation, each one too fearful to travel far from the protection of safety. Patamon rode in a perch of safety upon Takeru's head where he could see the road ahead and still feel safe. Hawkmon and Piyomon both remained on or very close to the ground and near their partners, while Tentomon hovered a short distance from Koushiro.

There had been some debate about whether or not they ought to follow the advice of the stranger who had appeared to them so mysteriously earlier. Yamato was reluctant to take orders from someone who seemed quite untrustworthy. Miyako was reminded of the dark, mysterious stranger Daisuke had described as giving him the book, and wondered if the two were the same, a possibility which occurred to the others as well.

"What harm can come of it, though?" Sora had pointed out. "We certainly have no other place to go, and Koushiro and Wizarmon are already leading us in the same direction."

In the end, they decided there was little other choice but to travel as the stranger had advised, and they moved out, walking slowly, each with eyes upon the shady, dense forest, watching constantly for signs of danger.

No danger came, no wild digimon attacked. The Bakemon were no where to be found, at least no where that could be seen. From time to time, it was possible to hear a light swishing sound in the distance and a low, eerie moaning that was certainly the sound of a ghostly digimon floating through the trees. They didn't venture out of hiding, however, and they made no attack upon the travelers.

"It's creepy," Mimi said, wrapping a thin shawl tightly around her shoulders and taking shelter in the inside of the group. "I know they're out there and watching us, I can almost _feel_ them in my bones, but I can't see them!"

"I don't think it's us they're after," Sora answered. "If they wanted us, they would have already come and attacked."

"We're not interested in them. They're only the pawns. It's whatever's controlling them, that's caused the sleep spell and sent all those…bats," Yamato reminded them. He paused in his steps long enough glance upward at the moving sky. He shivered briefly, and resumed walking.

Wizarmon had a strong suspicion that Miyako was not telling the others all that she might know. She had mentioned nothing to the others about what she had seen in the wind, and he had dismissed it as completely unrelated, yet the magical digimon was certain that it was not. After that morning's incident, he was sure that whoever this stranger was, he was the same person that Miyako had sensed with the wind spell, and she knew him.

Unwilling was he to meddle in the affairs of the Chosen or in their own personal lives, however, and so he remained quiet. He did however notice that Koushiro also kept a watch upon the young mage, glancing in her direction occasionally, his face usually wearing a subtle expression of concern and question. For whatever his own reasons might be, however, the young wizard also kept silent and did not question Miyako about the incident or any of his own suspicions.

Miyako seemed to pay the others very little attention while she walked. She had given in to the wearing of the spectacles so that she might not suffer from such strong headaches as she had before, but she seemed to see even less of the world around her. Wizarmon suspected that she, too, was lost within her own thoughts about the stranger and the current predicament.

The sun had sank deeply into the western skies by the time the group arrived within sight of the tall, fortress-like prison, causing the darkness to grow thicker. In day time it would surely have been a formidable sight, and in the evening, with only the vaguest hint of dusk visible from beyond the cover of bats, it was a picture of pure evil.

Mimi shivered and wrapped her shawl even more tightly around her shoulders, trying to make herself smaller. Jyou shivered as a cool breeze suddenly swept past them.

They were standing upon the edge of the northern forest, on a slight hill that overlooked the tiny village. Below, tiny huts stretched out in the valley, bordered on the south by a peaceful little lake and on the east by a meandering, lazy river that connected to the lake. The huts were dark and silent, and there was neither lights nor carriages nor the slightest movement in the village.

"Why is it that this village looks familiar to me?" Yamato wondered, scratching the back of his head. "I feel as though I have been here before."

"All villages look the same to me," Mimi admitted. "Tiny huts, tiny streets, tons of little people." She shrugged.

Takeru shook his head. "No, it feels familiar to me, too, and now I know why. Look." He pointed to the west, where another hill rose out of the ground, a tall building perched on the top. "I've been there, and so have you, Yamato. It's where Daisuke lives."

"That's an awfully odd coincidence," Jyou muttered under his breath. "Why _this_ village? Why _that_ prison? There must be others, right?"

Several eyes turned to Iori, who sighed before he answered: "Three others, actually. One at least three days' journey south of here, another at the edge of the western sea, nearly a week from here, and the last near the northern border, in the midst of the mountains."

"At any rate, it's good that the bad guy chose something nearby, right?" Mimi pointed out, trying to be positive. This comment was largely ignored.

"This one was shut down," Taichi said then, frowning. "It was taken because it has been empty – at least of prisoners – for the last two months."

The doctor nodded, acknowledging the point. "Still, it seems to be an odd coincidence," he pointed out.

"Do you think this has something to do with Daisuke?" Sora questioned.

Jyou frowned and scratched his chin for a moment. "It's hard to say that, exactly," he answered. "If it does, I can't imagine what the connection is."

"Unless, of course, Daisuke's evil or something now," Mimi pointed out.

There was a brief silence as the others considered this, and then there was a clamor of disagreement.

"That's insane!" Takeru told her. "He would never !"

"That's what we thought about Ken, too!" she retorted, shrugging lightly. "I'm not saying he _is_," she put up her hands in a defensive gesture,"I'm just saying that is a possible conclusion."

"It's highly unlikely," Yamato told her. "I don't think we ought to come to conclusions like that just yet."

"We knew that Demon would come after Ken," Iori put in, speaking in a quiet, calm voice. "He told us so, right from the start. It seemed that Ken was his only target, not Daisuke."

"Still, what if that was to throw us off the track?" Jyou wondered. "He didn't _have_ to announce to us any of his intentions."

Takeru let out a snort of disgust, and Yamato threw up his arms in frustration. "This won't get us anywhere," he told them. "Let's move away from it. If it turns out, for some weird reason, that Daisuke is behind this, then we'll deal with it when we know for certain. For now, let's just try to get to that building over there. You know, the ominous one with the 'Dark Lord?' inside of it?"

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the door creaked open and the Bakemon entered, a crowd of them filling the tiny doorway. Hikari made no move to either greet or oppose them, but remained unmoving, seated on the floor. She didn't react with surprise or disappointment when they parted and the strange, silent slave boy returned. 

"I suppose you have come for me, then?" she asked, and he nodded without speaking. She got to her feet slowly, and with effort, for she was tired and weak. Silent, neither laughing nor grinning, the Bakemon parted and she followed him from the cell.

* * *

Miyako pushed the spectacles onto her nose with the first finger of her right hand and breathed a soft sigh of relief when the world returned to its normal, calm state. "There is no barrier that I can see," she reported. "The entire building is a dark blur of magic, but there is no barrier to protect it and no shield." 

"What do we do when we're inside?" Mimi wanted to know. She shivered again, wrapping her shawl around her once more.

There was quiet. "The prophecy says that after the light has erupted, six days of darkness," Koushiro recalled. "It would seem the darkness began before the eruption, however." He looked upward toward the sky.

No one spoke.

"Should we wait for something?" Jyou wondered.

All eyes turned toward Taichi, who was looking at the distant fortress of a prison with an intense gaze, almost as though he were trying to look _through_ the building and inside, to see what was happening. For some time, he didn't speak, only stared.

"Taichi?" Sora finally ventured to speak, and put a hand on his shoulder.

With a sigh, he shook his head. "I don't like the idea of waiting," he admitted, finally pulling his gaze away.

Before he could continue, however, there was a distant rumbling noise not dissimilar to the sound of thunder. The sky grew darker than ever before, so that it became impossible to see anything at all. Another rumble sounded, this time even louder and closer. Over the noise the sound of Mimi screaming could be heard.

"What is _that_?" she demanded.

There was a flash of light, like lightning, but it was tinted red. For a moment, the world was illuminated and everything that could be seen was visible, bright as day, but with a distinct red tint, as though it was being seen through colored glass. Then it faded immediately, plunging the world again into darkness. Again, they could hear the rumbling.

"What's that?" Sora's voice shouted, and she pointed. When the light flashed again the others followed her gaze and saw that a strange carriage seemed to be flying through the air, surrounded by an even larger pack of the winged bats.

"Is it ?" Mimi wondered, her voice soft, but bordering on hysteria. It became dark before anyone could get a closer look. After a few moments, the thunder stopped, and so did the flashing lights.

* * *

Hikari could almost sense a certain amount of fear in the room, and it wasn't all her own, she was certain. She had been led to an upper chamber of the prison, usually used as an office for the warden of the prison. Now, though, it had been removed of all furniture, and the large, ceiling-high windows had been opened, causing a cold, steady breeze to flow into the room. A few torches on the walls were the only light in the dim room. 

Through the absent windows of the office, Hikari could see the outside world as it had become while she had been in the prison. The sky was a dark, cloudy blur, covered with hundreds of thousands of tiny winged creatures. The world beyond the office window was completely dark.

There was a flash of red light that illuminated the room and the world beyond, and the sound of thunder made the building shake.

"W-what is that?" Hikari asked, struggling to stay on her feet, suddenly feeling very weak and dizzy. A sudden and almost unbearable headache began, just above her eyes, and she fought to ignore it as best she could.

The Bakemon shivered quietly and floated out of the room. Hikari watched them go, wondering what it was that could make a Bakemon afraid.

* * *

For some time, there was darkness. The only sound was of the constant fluttering of bats and Mimi's nervous breathing. "Light…please," she begged, her voice just above a soft whisper. "Please." 

There was a flicker of light as Wizarmon removed a lit candle from within his pointed hat. A dim circle of illumination appeared, and Mimi breathed a sigh of relief. Palmon did her best to comfort her partner, and Sora put an arm around the other girl, gently patting and rubbing her back. "It's all right Mimi. You're safe."

"For now anyway," Yamato noted with a barely visible dour expression.

A brighter light appeared in the form of a single ball of fire, hovering a few feet above the ground. Instantly, the area was illuminated further, and Mimi relaxed.

Koushiro sighed deeply, and the flame slowly sank down into the ground, resting now only inches above the ground. "It won't last for long," he stated bluntly, shaking his head, and she shivered.

"I think we may be done waiting," Taichi pointed out. "I think now is the time to move as close as we can to the prison." He frowned, glancing toward the ominous building. "It won't be much longer before _something_ happens, I'm sure."

The room had emptied entirely, and Hikari had the vague feeling that she ought to be somewhere completely different, but she wasn't certain where to go or how to get there, and she wasn't willing to run away in fear. There was a flash of red light, the room went dark, and then the torches flickered to life once more and she was no longer alone.

"It seems that you have accepted the inevitable, human princess," said a voice that came from a very tall figure behind a dark cape. "I applaud your wisdom. I was always told that humans were stupid and emotional, and yet you have proved yourself to be superior."

Uncertain of how to reply to such a backhanded compliment, Hikari said instead: "Who are you and what is it you want with me?"

In response, the other laughed, a high-pitched smooth-voiced laugh, and turned its face toward her. It was a face paler than the palest humans had ever been, with eyes colder than any human's could ever be, visible through the protection of a red mask. Blond hair framed the face, and when the creature smiled, two sharp fangs could be seen, emerging from its upper lip.

"I am Vamdemon," he answered. "From you, human, I desire…your power."

She shook her head rather than give in to the instinct to shiver or to run in the opposite direction. "You have the wrong person," she answered, somehow managing to keep her voice steady despite the fact that she could feel every bone in her body shake and tremble with fear. "I have no power, certainly none that you could have use for."

Again, the other laughed, this time throwing back its head back until it met the high back of its cloak, then he turned himself entirely to face her. He was a digimon and there was no doubt, for no human had ever been built so tall and so thin. The inside of his cape, the same red as the mask upon its face, reminded Hikari eerily of the color of blood, and his boots, monstrously sized black objects, each had the face of a skull – a human skull – painted upon them. "You are either lying or you have been lied to," he told her simply, and from somewhere within the folds of his cape, he removed a tiny object dangling from a string.

He held the string loosely between two fingers of his long, gloved fingers, and the object dangled softly for a moment. A gust of wind blew through the opened windows, and the string danced on the power of the breeze, then began, softly, to glow, a gentle white light that felt so warm and peaceful that Hikari could feel the effects even from where she stood.

"This is the crest of Hikari, of light," Vamdemon told her. "It reacts only to the one who has been chosen as the Child of Light, which would be you. It is you and you alone who possesses such the amount of power that I require, and it is from you that I will take it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hikari repeated, shaking her head. At the same time, though, she knew that he must right. It had been virtually certain, almost from the moment she had received her digivice, that she would be the one to hold the crest of Light, and yet she understood little of what was being said.

"Don't you?" he questioned, his voice casual and light. He laughed, a brief explosion of giggles. "It is in your family alone that the power of the light magic is held, and it is you alone that possess enough power to be of use to me. I need this power, you see, because without it, I cannot carry out my mission, for as strong as I am, the King of the Undead does require ever more power. Especially when there are Chosen to oppose him." He stepped forward, a grin upon his face, and Hikari forced herself to look away turning her head to the side.

"I won't help you. What makes you think that I would?" she asked.

"I'm afraid you won't have much of a choice," he answered. As he spoke, the door behind Hikari opened. She turned, and the dark figure she had seen upon first arrival entered the room, clutching a tiny sac in both hands. "I see you have found our solution," Vamdemon said.

The other bowed low and held the sac in front of him. "It has been located, master. Surely now your plan will succeed?"

"It has no possibility of failure, so long as those who serve me correctly perform their duties." The tall digimon crossed the wide room in only two steps, passing so closely past Hikari that she could feel the smooth material of his cape upon her cheek before she could move to avoid it. "Give it to me."

"Of course, master," he answered, and held out the sac. Vamdemon took it within his gloved hand and smiled, the pointed, fang like teeth again becoming visible above his bright red lips.

"Excellent," he said, pleased. He held the sac up so that he might view it at eye level, and smiled even wider. "It would seem my plans will finally come to fruition."

"As you have said, master," answered the figure, still bowed low. Vamdemon frowned then, and lowered his arm.

"Human," he said, sharply, and the cloaked figure bowed even lower than Hikari had believed possible. "You have of course followed my orders to the letter?"

"Yes, master, of course."

"You have disposed of all those useless creatures and humans who have interfered with my plans?"

"Yes, master."

"You are quite certain?"

"Yes master. I have destroyed the interlopers and disposed of them as ordered, master."

"I see." For a long moment there was silence, and Hikari shivered, feeling fear on behalf of the figure, even though she had no reason to give him her sympathy or pity. She wondered if the man were any longer capable of being frightened for his life or if he was, like the slave boy she had seen, deprived of free will and emotions. In any case, he certainly displayed no fear. "I should hope so," Vamdemon finally said, easing the tension that Hikari certainly felt, even if the other did not.

"Leave us now. I have preparations to complete for tonight."

The servant straightened long enough to nod, then bowed low again and left the room as silently as he had entered, the door shutting softly behind him.

* * *

Moving along, slowly but surely. Action coming up, I promise. Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing. 

And hey! I introduced the bad guy! Go me! Any guesses yet? Huh? huh?


	12. The Fate of the Future

**Enter The Light**

**Part Twelve: **The Fate of the Future

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Digimon – not mine. Plot – mine! Steal – no! Sue – no! Thank you. Enjoy!

* * *

The sky was completely dark now, and no light penetrated the heavy covering of bats and clouds. Only a few flickering torches gave off light and it was by these that Hikari could make out the cold eyes that fixed her with a chilling gaze.

Within one gloved hand, Vamdemon held a small leather sac, tied shut with a leather cord. He held it far from his body, as though he was afraid of it, and as soon as the robed servant had departed, he tossed the tiny bag on to a small wooden table that stood in the corner.

He stepped closer to Hikari. Swallowing her fear, she held steady and didn't step backwards, but nor did she look directly in to his eyes. She turned her head to the side and stared fixedly at the wall, trying to pretend that she was interested in the structure of it.

"It seems I have much work to do, if you are not even aware of your power. You will most certainly not know how to use it. Allow me to teach."

Curious, Hikari turned her face back to face the vampire digimon. She looked up, making contact with his cold, dark eyes. "What use do you have for whatever power you say that I have?" she wanted to know. "Haven't you enough of your own?"

Vamdemon laughed a mocking, humorous sort of laugh that one uses when one finds another's statement to be naïve and stupid. "You shall be most useful," he said simply, and turned away from her to peer out the window.

* * *

A silent figure, dressed entirely in black, perched atop the thick iron gate that surrounded the heavily fortified prison. There was little light to see by, and only an occasional flicker of illumination from the dark sky above, but he had no need for light. He knew this place, even if his memories were still half lost to him. 

The Bakemon that had been endlessly patrolling the grounds were now nowhere to be seen, and an eerie quiet stillness blanketed the area almost as solidly as the bats above. With a soft whisper that barely created a dent in the cover of silence, the small green caterpillar on the shoulder of the figure spoke. His partner nodded once, to show that he had understood, but he had not heard. He didn't need to hear the words to know what had been communicated.

Moving with the swift dark silence that only a certain sort of people are capable of, the figure jumped quickly and almost effortlessly from the top of the iron gate onto the thick stone wall. There was only the softest thud that sounded on the stones when his feet made contact, and it was swallowed in the silence. When his feet landed on the dirt ground beyond the wall, beyond the tall gate, inside the prison, there was no sound to any but the most perceptive ears, and the inner courtyard was silent.

"There are no Bakemon," whispered the caterpillar. "What does that mean?"

In the blink of an eye, the dark shadow of a figure darted across the courtyard, past the empty cells that lined the walls, staring blankly at him. "I don't know," he answered once they were hidden again in the shadows of the walls. "It may be that they are afraid."

"What does a ghost have to be frightened of?"

"Its leader."

There was a heavy iron door at the opposite end of the long courtyard, an ominous object that seemed to be the very definition of doom and fear. "This has been too easy, yet it would have been too difficult before," said the figure, and with another blink he was beside the door, reaching out with one arm and taking hold of the handle.

The door was unlocked and gave way easily, though with a loud screeching grate of metal on metal. The hinges were rusty from the exposure to the open air, and the sound was deafening, echoing off the tall fortress walls. When it was fully opened, the intruder withdrew his hand and waited.

For a heartbeat, they waited, and the sound still echoed. It died, and for a heartbeat more it was silent, yet the ghosts had appeared, emerging from within the darker shadows where there had been no ghosts before. They had no playful laughter now, nor strange, grotesque grins, but solemn, glaring expressions that would inspire doom in their most fearsome opponents. Bakemon felt no fear, only a slight trepidation at the sight of their master, and some at stronger ghosts, yet none from living opponents, and even less from a single human and a small caterpillar defenseless within their circle.

In half the time of a human heartbeat, the lone human in the midst of the undead had seen the crowd surround him and made his conclusions. He cursed softly under his breath, a burst of air more than sound.

"Should I?" questioned the caterpillar, still whispering rather than speaking aloud, even though the spell of silence seemed to have been broken.

"Do it," was the answer.

* * *

Miyako thought that she could see a brief flash of light from somewhere beyond the walls, but it was only a short burst, hardly an eruption, and she was inclined to dismiss it as only her imagination. At any rate, none of the others seemed to notice. 

She was in the lead of a small group of Chosen, holding alight a tiny but significant flame of light that she had only just learned how to conjure. It wasn't much different from the spell of fire, and it was not difficult for her to maintain. Behind her, Mimi, Iori, and Takeru followed in silence. The only sound was the occasional gasp from someone at some imagined specter in the darkness.

Yet there was nothing. As they walked, the soft grass was covered in cold, wet dew, and their footsteps were soft and quiet as the prison grew ever closer. There was no sign of another living creature, alive or asleep, for as far as the flame's light could carry. There was no sign of any undead creature either, though the field had been crawling with ghosts before.

With one hand, each of the travelers kept a close hold upon his or her digivice, and for their part, the digimon remained as close as they could to their partners. Hawkmon was walking at Miyako's feet. She held her skirts up from the ground in her free hand, bunched along with her digivice, and he walked so near to her that she could feel his feathers tickle her ankles. Patamon was perched atop Takeru's head, his tiny paws clutching tight to his partner's hair so that Takeru almost felt pain. Mimi and Palmon held hands tightly, the plant digimon's vine-like fingers stretching to meet with the girl's.

There was no sound of footsteps, only a dull silence, and the distant sound of the flapping of many wings of many bats. No one dared look up.

When they were but steps away from the river separating them from their destination, Miyako curled her fingers into a fist, extinguishing the fire and plunging them back into darkness. She shut her eyes and waited for the sign.

* * *

The tiny cell had been dim before, with only a single, flickering torch, but now, the torch having been extinguished, Shijo found himself plunged into complete darkness. He was not ordinarily afraid of the dark, but this was an exception. This seemed darker than any night, for there were neither windows nor openings within the tiny room. It seemed suddenly colder, too, and he felt afraid without Koromon. He had never been separated from his partner before, and was certain that if Koromon had been with him, he would not have been quite so frightened. 

There was a noise in the hall, the first he had heard since the door had opened and the princess had left him. It was a quiet tapping in the distance. Without really knowing why, the boy got to his feet. There was the grating sound of screeching metal that was so loud that he covered his ears with his hands and stepped back away from the door, and then it stopped and there was silence.

The door was flung open sharply, and a sole figure rushed in, a silent shadow of a human being that Shijo recognized immediately, his fear slowly abiding. A dim light followed the newcomer in from the hallway behind.

"You must hurry," said the stranger that he knew, and Shijo didn't bother with words, simply nodded.

"It didn't work," he said when he had left the cell and was following down the hallway. "They took it from me. I don't know what they did with it, but the princess didn't get it – ."

The other stopped short in his tracks. "The princess?" he echoed, seeming to be surprised for the first time. Before the boy could answer, he nodded and had begun moving again, speaking now as though to himself, lost within a memory. "Yes, that's right. I should have known."

For some time they hurried down the hall, stopping and peering down intersecting corridors to make certain that no Bakemon were approaching. It didn't seem as though they were getting any closer to the exit, and Shijo ventured to ask, "Sir? Where are we going?"

"To rescue the digimon," answered the other. "It'll all have been in vain if she hasn't got her digimon, and she doesn't."

* * *

"Take this," said the vampire digimon then, and he thrust the tiny sac toward Hikari. She caught it and fumbled for a moment with the cord before she managed to open it. 

"Where did you - ?" she demanded when it was empty of its contents – a single golden circle of metal, just a bit too narrow to be a bracelet and a bit too wide to be a ring – at least for a human hand. "What did you do with Tailmon?"

"Quiet," Vamdemon answered, his voice a stern order, his face an amused grin. He reached out, long arm extending to his thin fingers, encased in a leathery glove, and placed one upon her cheek, just below her left ear.

She found she couldn't move, couldn't turn her head, and some part inside of her screamed out in pain, although she wasn't being harmed in anyway. Some part of her shivered, frightened of his touch, and another part of what was to come afterwards. She had felt dizzy before, and now, suddenly, she felt her dizziness increase.

"Don't give in, child of Light," Vamdemon advised, his voice like the soothing, healing sensation of the right creams upon a burn. "Fight it; draw your power to the surface." He was speaking softly now, barely a whisper.

Somewhere behind him, the bats parted, and the bright light of the full moon made it seem again like daylight beyond the prison.

* * *

"It's beautiful," Sora breathed, for the moon seemed much bigger and brighter than she had ever seen before. "Beautiful." 

"It's light," Koushiro noted, a frown on his face.

"Should we - ?" Jyou wanted to know.

"No," Taichi interrupted before he could finish. "It is light, but it is no eruption. Wait, just a bit longer."

* * *

At the end of a thousand corridors that must have covered the distance of the entire kingdom, there was a door – the only door that was locked, and for that reason, the very door that they had been searching for. Shijo pulled upon the handle with all his might and it steadfastly refused to move even a tiny bit. There was no shifting of hinges. The shadowy stranger took hold of the door and tugged as well, but there was no difference. 

"Can't you do something?" Shijo questioned, looking toward his companion. "Some magic?"

"I told you I am no wizard," answered the other, and let go of the door handle, sighing. "No, there's got to be some way to get it open." He frowned in thought for a moment.

There was a soft sound of a footstep on the rough stone floor, and another figure appeared. Shijo recognized him – the silent, rag-clad boy that had taken the object from him at the command of the man in the black cloak. "What do you want?" he demanded, stepping forward. If no magic intervened, he thought, it would be rather difficult for the boy to manage to overtake him.

His companion, however, laid a hand upon his shoulder and stepped forward. "Why has he sent you here?" he asked.

The boy held out a small metal ring, from which dangled a single key. "To give you this," he answered.

Stunned, Shijo stared, mouth agape. "Why?" he wanted to know. "Is it some sort of a trap?"

With a shrug and a shake of the head, the boy answered only: "I know neither my master's wishes nor his thoughts, only his orders. He has instructed me to give you the key. I know of no trap."

Before Shijo could say another word, the shadowy figure had spoken: "Thank you."

Another shrug, and then the strange creature had disappeared.

* * *

"Fight?" Hikari echoed dimly, the word suddenly without meaning. 

"Fight me," said the soft voice. "Release the power inside of you."

She thought to open her mouth and to explain that she didn't quite understand, but Hikari found that movement was nearly impossible, and that speaking another word would take far more energy than she would have in sixteen lifetimes. Her knees felt weak, the world feeling as though it was so distant from her.

It was as though she were drifting into a long-needed sleep, an exhaustion that she could no longer battle effectively. She felt warm and cold at the same time, and then she felt neither, for the sensation of temperature was of the physical world, and she was no longer aware of the physical.

She was in another world for a moment, a distant dreamy land of peace, and then she became aware of the smooth, cold metal at her fingertips and the soft, light touch of leather upon her left cheek, slowly sliding its way down the side of her face.

* * *

"I had thought you might be dead," said the feline digimon bluntly, addressing the shadowy stranger as though she knew him personally. Shijo, reunited with Koromon, only thought briefly of the meaning of this statement. 

"Very nearly so for a while," answered the other in the sort of voice that suggested he didn't particularly want to discuss the matter of his own death. Shijo could understand that. He turned his head, suddenly, as though he had heard something alarming, and then said, "I must go. The boy will help you find her." He pointed toward Shijo, and then was gone before any thing else could be done.

The cat digimon turned toward Shijo. "Let's hurry," she said impatiently.

* * *

A strange feeling came over Hikari while she was drifting towards sleep and feeling as though she were perilously close to exhaustion. At the point in which she thought she might lose consciousness and drift into a heavy sleep, she suddenly began to feel a sort of calm serenity, a peacefulness she had only a few times before been acquainted with. 

There was something else there, too, a feeling that she could not really explain in any words that she knew. The exhaustion was still present, but it was distant and she was not aware of it in the way that she thought she ought to have been. The dizziness seemed not to affect her in the way that it ought to have. Her vision was blurry and everything now seemed brighter. There was a distant high pitched sound in the distance, but it might only have been her imagination. Over it, Vamdemon was laughing, a soft rumbling sound that advanced slowly into a riotous laughter.

There was the dull sound of a banging at the outer door, but even this was distant, as though she were hearing through someone else's ears, through someone else's body.

Then, there was an explosion.

The door was a heavy iron blockade, like all the doors in the prison, and no amount of banging or pulling would open it. There was a torch burning dimly on the outside wall, and Shijo had taken hold of it quickly so that he could examine the door. For some reason that he had never quite understood, the flames had grown stronger the moment he moved near to the door, and the explosion happened immediately afterwards.

The feline digimon recovered quickly, bursting through the remaining small flames. "Hikari!" she shouted, ignoring the heat rising around her.

The princess looked pale and thin and weak, and she was kneeling on the floor, her face white as a sheet. It might have been his own exhaustion or it might have been the flames still surrounding the empty hole where the door had once been (it was now lying upon the ground, uselessly), but Shijo thought that the paleness was nearly ethereal, extending beyond her body so that it seemed as though she was glowing a soft white glow. She seemed not to notice them, her face turned in their direction but her eyes not seeing them; she was looking at something completely beyond what was in the room itself.

Before her stood a tall, thin digimon with a long dark cape, white skin, dark gloves, and a bright red mask. He spun quickly at the sound of the explosion and reacted most quickly, waving his arm in a wide, sweeping arc. "Bloody Stream!" he shouted, and a flash of bright red light filled the boy's vision.

There was a cry of pain that might have come from the princess, might have come from her partner, might have come from both. The white feline digimon was now lying upon the ground, struggling to her feet. She looked up and faced the one who had attacked her with a vicious glare full of hatred and righteous anger.

The Bakemon returned, a swarm of ghosts that appeared from nowhere and surrounded the room before Shijo had even finished getting to his feet. The tall, thin digimon shouted a command that was virtually indistinguishable to human ears, and another ghost materialized from the floor, carrying a long, curved blade attached to a chain. A single feline appeared at the open window, identical to the princess' partner save for her color, a solid black.

There was a moment of tense silence. "Where is the human?"

The leader of the ghosts shook his head, indicating his lack of knowledge, and the feline shrugged casually. "I wasn't aware he needed a babysitter," she said, a trace of sarcasm in her tone.

While distracted by his minions, the tall, thin digimon had paid no attention to the white feline, and she had made her way to the princess and was now beside her. She cupped her partner's hand in her own. "Hikari."

"Silence!" shouted the leader. "Bloody Stream!" Shijo could see little in the room due to the flashes of red light, and when he could, both of the feline digimon were lying upon the floor, and Hikari had an expression of pain on her face. She had squeezed her eyes shut and put her hands on the floor. Strangely enough the glow around her seemed to grow brighter even as the flames were dying down.

"Master, please," cried the dark feline, moaning in pain. "Forgive me."

He paid her no attention, but turned back toward the princess. "I have little patience remaining, human child," he said, and his voice was a vicious, grating whisper. He spat each word out violently now rather than gently caressing it as he had done before. The princess looked up at him, appearing to be seeing him for the first time.

"You cannot have it. I will destroy you," she answered, her voice calm and serene and confident. He laughed.

"Destroy me? I have no patience for insolence any longer!" He raised his arm once more, and, in an almost graceful motion, brought it down once more in a wide, slow arc, the red light trailing behind him. "Bloody Stream!" he said, his voice almost a shrieking cacophony of sound.

"No," Shijo gasped, for he saw that the attack was likely to make contact with the princess. He dashed forward, through the vacant doorway, but stumbled and fell to the ground, his hands making contact with the cool tile that lined the floor.

"Move!" shouted the white feline, and it was only by her quick actions that the princess was shoved aside, just out of the reach of the attack. Part of the wall was scorched – a black line that ran up the solid stone and left an indentation that was easily as thick as a finger.

With what seemed like a great amount of effort, Hikari gracefully rose to her feet, one hand clenched tightly around an object she held in her hand, the other on one that hung round her neck. She opened her hand, revealing a small golden ring shaped object, which she tossed to her partner. "Are you ready?" she asked.

She nodded, taking the object and affixing it in its proper position – the end of her long tail. "Let's do it."

"Bloody Stream!" the evil digimon shouted once more, and the red light was bright, but another light was even brighter. Shijo raised an arm to shield his face, and squinted through the glow.

"Tailmon evolve!"

* * *

The sky had been illuminated by the bright moon before, but now the light was beyond that of the day time. In every direction for days on end, a bright flash of light could be seen, originating from the eastern corner of a tiny village. 

Of course, the only ones who had escaped the spell of darkness and could see the light were the Bakemon, and they were afraid of the light, hiding in the cold dark places within the prison walls. It offered little refuge from the power of the light.

And there were the Chosen, of course, who, standing in wait just across the river from the prison, could see the bright light and knew then that _this_ was the eruption they had been waiting for.

The unfortunate Bakemon that had been in the courtyard moaned and writhed in pain. A few of the weaker ones deleted instantly, and the others wailed their distress, hurrying to return to the cool darkness of the inner walls. Those that remained outside could only groan and wail in agony.

There was another light, though not as intense, and the warrior that had been there was replaced by a tiny green caterpillar once more. He looked up at his partner, who had emerged into the courtyard only seconds before.

"I'm not sure if I should feel sorry for them," he said, taking the caterpillar in his arms. "Let's go."

* * *

Squinting through the light, Miyako could vaguely make out the location of the source of light. "I had no idea," she muttered, half to herself, half to Hawkmon. "No idea she could do that…." 

"What's happened?" Takeru shouted, as though there were noise, which there was not. There was only a silence that came with the light. He shouted to hear himself over the silence.

"I'm not sure!" Miyako called back to him. She was still wearing the spectacles – she wondered if she'd be completely blinded without them.

"I think it's an evolution," Palmon stated plainly, and a moment later, when the light had faded, they could see that he was right.

* * *

"Angewomon!" 

Shijo could hardly see through the light, for it was brighter than anything he'd seen before. For a moment, he could not come near to understanding what was going on. He was only aware of the world disappearing around him, and then he could feel his partner in his arms and knew that he was alive.

The light had faded, and then he could see dim shapes that slowly came back into focus as the creatures that had been in the room before. The leader of the ghosts had disappeared into shadows as only a ghost is able. The black feline was screaming even louder than she had been before the light had appeared, and then she disappeared, deleting, particles scattering in a miniature explosion. Her screams faded and then cut off abruptly. Shijo shivered, and clutched his Koromon even tighter, backing up against the wall

"An evolution," Koromon whispered, awed, for he had paid little attention to the cat's deletion. Shijo turned his head then and saw that the tall, thin digimon, seemed to shrink, and beside the princess, where the white feline had stood, was now hovering a larger humanoid digimon.

Even now, the new digimon, Angewoman, seemed to be emitting the same glowing aura, and Shijo felt some sort of peace at the sight of her, and of the princess, who must be her partner. She was a magnificent digimon, a humanoid like he had never seen before, only heard legends about, and then distant, unbelievable legends. She had pale skin like a human and long flowing blond hair, and huge, spotless white wings that extended from her body.

Shijo felt very safe in her presence.

* * *

Although the light had mostly faded, the sky was bright as day now, and the covering of bats had, although not dispersed, become less oppressive than before. The clouds seemed to lessen a bit. The sound of hundreds upon hundreds of the tiny winged creatures squeaking and crying out in the night, perhaps in pain from the bright light, filled the air and assaulted ears. 

"That was an eruption!" Taichi shouted over the noise. "That was definitely an eruption!" Without waiting for further discussion, he took off at a run in the direction of the prison, the direction from which the light had come, running at full speed, stumbling over rocks and twigs and mounds of dirt that covered the ground and impeded his progress.

"Taichi! Wait!" Sora called, and hurried after him. After a moment, the others followed.

"You shall not pass over this bridge. You shall not enter the fortress of the master," said a voice. It was low, deep, and solemn, and it belonged to Phantomon, the leader of the ghosts. He hovered above the wooden planks, scythe outstretched, prepared for battle.

"I don't think you're in a position to stop me!" Taichi declared. He was running, still, had never stopped running. "Agumon!" he shouted.

"I'm ready!" Agumon called from somewhere behind him, still running.

Prepared for what was to come, Sora shielded her eyes with her hand. The light was barely a fraction of the intensity of the previous blast, it was still enough to inflict momentary blindness. Over the silence of the light, Agumon could be heard shouting.

"Agumon evolve! Greymon!"

The massive dinosaur digimon emerged from the fading light and bared his teeth, releasing a massive roar. His teeth, sharp and shiny and large, gleamed down at the solitary ghost.

"Is that all?" Phantomon questioned dully. He waved his scythe in a wide swoop.

An army of Bakemon appeared from behind the mist that enshrouded the prison behind him, rising from the ground.

"Where did _they_ come from?" Jyou demanded.

"Ghosts can be invisible, Jyou," Gomamon reminded him.

"Ah…should we not be of some assistance?" Tentomon hummed.

"Let's do it!" Yamato shouted, dashing ahead and pulling his digivice from the pocket of his coat as he did so. "Gabumon!"

"Gabumon evolve! Garurumon!"

* * *

This was going to be out sooner, but I had midterms, and then spring break, and so yeah. Didn't happen. Still working on it! Thanks for reading! Stay tuned! 


	13. Defeat and the Six Days' Time

**Enter The Light**

**Part Thirteen:** Defeat and the Six Days' Time

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Plot is mostly mine, however pitiful it may be. _Digimon_, etc, is not. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to moo. 

Moo.

* * *

For what seemed like an eternity, the beautiful digimon hovered just outside the building, light ebbing and flowing from her in soft, gentle waves. Shijo could not take his eyes off of Angewomon, and he was unaware for the longest and shortest moment in his life of nothing else in the world.

"No!" said a deep voice and then Shijo turned his head from the window to see that the tall, thin digimon wearing the long cape was speaking. He waved his arm, and the entire chamber was thrown into turmoil. Shijo felt himself flung backwards, and he was aware of a strange sensation of flying before he came to a sudden stop against a hard object. There was a painful throb that began in his head and the world spun around him. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he saw strange spots of light speckling his vision.

There was a cold breeze then and Shijo became aware that the outside wall had been torn away. The heavy stones had collapsed and fallen to the ground some distance below, and now the wind, having grown in strength and power, whipped through the empty framework of a room, further disturbing the few things within it.

"I'll destroy _you_," the digimon declared. He seemed to have been growing larger; increasing in size until now he seemed bigger than the room. Indeed, he was no longer inside the room, but outside, hovering in the air just beyond the edge of the room. The air around him felt colder and stiller than before, and filled with evil.

* * *

By the best count Sora could estimate, there were three dozen Bakemon, but that amount seemed low, and seemed like a number that couldn't fully describe the sea of ghosts that stretched between the prison and the opposite bank. They hovered over the water and the land alike, having neither respect nor interest in solid ground. Each of them grinned a grotesque smile that sent shivers down the spine of all who saw them.

At the head of the pack stood the leader of the ghosts, Phantomon, carrying a well-polished scythe and a long metal chain. He had no face, no expression, and yet he seemed pleased, smug.

"I think that I can most certainly stop you," the ghost-leader answered. He waved his scythe once and the chain attached to it swung wide over the water. Taichi dodged, but only just barely, and the edge of the sharp metal scraped the side of his arm. A single red line appeared, and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his arm.

There was a rumbling sound, as though the earth was shaking, and then the army of Bakemon was augmented by at least six monstrous red dinosaurs. Tyrannomon.

* * *

In the courtyard of the prison fortress, the Bakemon that had been so ominously looming had abruptly disappeared, off to fight some other enemy. There was a brief moment of calm, in which the human but not the small green caterpillar relaxed. The evil was still present, but the imminent threat was not.

Then the ground shook violently and heavy stones and bricks began to fall from some sky-high point above.

For a moment, both stood still, staring upward, frozen and paralyzed by the fear, and then instinct kicked in, self preservation becoming suddenly important, and the human scooped up his partner in his arms and dashed quickly for the building. The door had been shut, but the doorway was a safer refuge than anything in the courtyard, and he pressed himself flat against the solid door behind him and waited out the falling rocks.

"This place is falling apart, it seems!" he shouted to be heard over the rumbling.

The caterpillar digimon in his arms nodded, blue eyes wide. "It would be wise for us to leave, then, right?"

* * *

Miyako shielded her eyes as a quick succession of lights suddenly flashed, brightly across the otherwise dark riverside, evolutions.

"Piyomon evolve! Birdramon!"

"Tentomon evolve! Kabuterimon!"

"Gomamon evolve! Ikkakumon!"

"Palmon evolve! Togemon!"

Takeru had his digivice ready, gripped tightly in his hand, and Patamon was ready, prepared to leap off his partner's head and fly into battle, but Wizarmon held out his staff, as though to halt him.

"I think it's best if you wait," the wizard digimon said in a solemn tone. "I think it's best if we back away from danger for the moment."

* * *

"Bloody Stream!" the caped digimon shouted, waving his arm in a wide arc. A bright red, light the color of blood, appeared, and Shijo was momentarily blinded. He hoped the attack was not going to go near him, for he would be helpless to defend himself.

Angewomon had moved faster than the stream, though, and she had taken the princess in her arms and brought her to safety, in the corner, near Shijo. She was gone again before the boy could clearly see her, but he felt healed and reassured by her presence. Koromon in his arms was bouncing with life, feeling some sort of renewing energy that he had not experienced before.

The princess was quiet, watching all with her wide eyes, and yet Shijo wondered if she were seeing anything at all. He felt as though he ought to say something, but he did not know what, and so he remained silent.

"Bloody Stream," the caped digimon shouted again, and again the bright red light appeared. This time, Shijo did not blink, did not shield his eyes, and the beautiful angel digimon gracefully and easily dodged the attack with little effort. The enemy seemed enraged, and seemed to grow even larger with the power of his anger, but at the same time, he curiously was slower. The attacks continued, each missing by an even wider margin, and each time Angewomon seemed more graceful, quicker.

* * *

The battle began with a rumble, a scream, a roar, and a bang. A huge explosion of noise was heard as the two sides battled over the river. Miyako, Iori, Takeru, and Wizarmon retreated at the advice of the wise digimon and watched the battle from a distance. They climbed to the top of a hill that rose just behind them. From that height, the battle seemed a succession of lights and noise blurred together, and Miyako was relieved not to be in the midst of it.

Despite having followed Wizarmon's advice, Takeru was restless, continuously clenching and unclenching his hands as he watched with a concerned expression on his face. Miyako, too, considered running into the battle, and only her trust in Wizarmon was enough to halt her. Iori seemed calm, but she knew him well enough by now to know that he, too, was in some way wishing he could dash off to battle – his eyes were flashing with hidden emotions.

From the hill, they could see other things as well. They could see that a large portion of the upper levels had been demolished, and the wall had fallen in pieces to the ground below. And, they caught their first sight not only of the enemy they were fighting, but also of the creature that had evolved to fight it.

"Hikari is up there, isn't she?"

* * *

There was a disadvantage to being in the midst of a battle, and that disadvantage was that it was very difficult to see or to protect oneself from harm. Once the two sides had clashed over the river, Sora tried her best to keep an eye on her partner and also to get herself out of danger, but it was not the easiest tasks. Birdramon took to the air immediately, flying out of sight beyond the crowd of Bakemon that surged towards her when the battle began.

She had been standing a bit back from the edge of the river, eyes staring out at the army of Bakemon that had appeared before them, and then the battle had begun and suddenly she found herself surrounded by ghosts and giant feet, legs and she wanted nothing more than to escape, but there didn't seem to be anywhere to run to.

"Sora!" came a voice, and she felt a hand grab hold of her wrist and pull her, quickly through the crowd of ghosts.

* * *

Miyako felt strangely disconnected from the battle below her, which was raging on with predicted violence and had mostly degenerated into a mass of bodies and the occasional burst of fire or lightning. Her attention was strangely elsewhere, upon the disintegrating fortress-like prison, from which she could sense a concentration of magic the likes of which she had never been aware of before.

There was Hikari in a way that Miyako had never felt before but was undeniably the princess, a strange sort of strength and a powerful weakness that made her feel both empowered and exhausted at the same time. Miyako wondered if Hikari was feeling either of those two feelings at the present time or if she was feeling something completely different.

Wizarmon was turning his head to look in the same direction, and when he saw her expression, which must have been confused astonishment, the magical digimon nodded solemnly. "I sense it as well," he said. "The battle between the dark and the light."

Takeru, mostly unaware of the power of the magic, frowned and turned his head toward the upper levels of the now partially destroyed building, where he could see nothing but flashes of red light. "I hope she's okay," he said. "Are you sure I cannot help?"

"Not at this time," the wizard replied with a shake of the head.

"I hope Hikari wins," Patamon stated simply.

Miyako had shifted her attention to the lower levels of the building now, for she sensed another magic, though fainter and dimmer. It was so faint that she shut her eyes and used all her other senses to try to determine what it was, and then she opened her eyes and removed the spectacles she had been wearing most of the evening.

The world became a swirling mass of colors once more. From the highest tower of the prison she could see the origin of a bright white light which was nearly invisible without the sight of magic, and which continuously clashed with a dark shadow. A bright red light laced with darkness flashed between them, and from the clash emanated a powerful energy she could feel within her bones.

Below, though, was something else entirely, and though a dim darkness surrounded the area in its entirety, Miyako sensed and now saw a completely different sort of magic in the courtyard below the tower.

She gasped, biting back a mild curse, and then turned to her partner. "If you evolve," she said, "is there a way that we might get over the water, over there?" She pointed to the courtyard.

Hawkmon peered thoughtfully over the battle scene below. "Maybe," he answered tentatively.

"Why do you want to go over there?" Iori asked sharply, and Takeru also turned a curious face toward her.

"I – I sense something strange…something familiar…," she answered vaguely, breaking eye contact and glancing back toward the prison.

"What is it?" Takeru questioned.

"I'm not sure…."

"You _are_ sure," Iori retorted, frowning now. "What is it you sense? Or should I say _who_?"

"I'm not sure," Miyako repeated, and hesitated. "I think it might be Ken."

* * *

"Are you all right?" Taichi questioned. He was still holding her arm, even though it wasn't completely necessary now.

Distractedly, Sora looked upward to see her partner soaring overhead, and she nodded vaguely. "I'm fine," she said. She felt her face turn red and felt embarrassed by her own embarrassment.

"Look out," Jyou's voice called, and faintly Mimi's voice could be heard, screaming out a similar warning.

Sora turned, searching for the source of the danger, and Taichi instinctively darted out of the way of something – she couldn't yet determine what – pulling her along with him as he still held her wrist in his hand.

A massive fireball was soaring toward them, and Sora turned her head then to see what she was running from and was certain it would hit them, only then it seemed to bounce off an invisible air, and she realized that Koushiro must have shielded them. She forced her feet to stop and pulled Taichi to a stop as well before he ran into the other edge of the shield.

He had seen, though, and his face was white with something that Sora could only describe as fear, though she had never seen it so expressed on his face. Taichi wiped his brow with the back of his free hand and slowly regained the color of his skin.

"Are _you_ all right?" Sora questioned, and he grinned a grim sort of smile.

"I'll be fine."

* * *

Iori had grown silent, his lips drawn in a tight line and his eyes narrowing. He glanced in the direction Miyako had indicated, frowned deeper, and then relaxed his face with a deep sigh. "How is it possible…?"

"He's Chosen as well, if you haven't forgotten," Miyako returned. "If the spell was designed somehow not to affect the Chosen, then that certainly explains how he managed to stay awake."

Takeru shook his head, the shocked expression finally leaving his face. "What – what is he doing here?"

"He has good in him," Miyako told him, her voice a scolding tone. "A lot more than you know of. Perhaps he's here to help!"

Iori was silent, shaking his head. "I don't know…."

"All the same, I'm going to find him," she told them, and turned away.

"You're not going alone," Takeru told her, following after. "I'll go with you."

* * *

Although he had been attacking continuously, the evil digimon hadn't managed to score a single hit. His attacks seemed to be growing slower, his movements dulled, all while the angel was growing more graceful and quicker. Finally, he paused, frustrated beyond his ability to express in words.

Hikari took a step forward in the silence before he could speak. "You won't succeed," she told the digimon. She was pale, but in her eyes was strength of spirit that Shijo would have thought impossible. "I'll destroy you. I'll destroy you now."

"Fool!" cried the digimon loudly. "You cannot destroy me!"

"You are the fool, Vamdemon," she answered simply. "Angewomon."

The angelic digimon nodded gracefully, and then stretched one arm out. Between her thin fingers appeared a thin beam of light which slowly grew longer, and then the second arm bent to pull a string of light which extended from the first shaft.

At first, Shijo didn't understand, but then he realized that it was a bow, made entirely of light. With an emotion hovering between fear and awe, he gripped his partner Koromon tightly to his chest, eyes wide.

* * *

"No," Miyako said, shaking her head so sharply that her hair gently smacked into the side of her face. Her eyes were stern, and for the first time Takeru was aware of the power of her magic and her anger, and he reluctantly stepped backwards.

"You can't go alone," he protested, but the words seemed weak to him. Miyako turned away from him once more and took a single step before all activity stopped, for at that exact moment, there was another bright light emanating from the top of the prison. It wasn't as bright as the first light, but it was powerful enough that they had to shield their eyes.

"What's that?" Iori wondered, putting a hand to his brow.

* * *

Suddenly, the sounds of battle around them went silent, for all the Bakemon had disappeared, and Phantomon as well. The Tyrannomon were the only things remaining, but they were still, moaning and groaning in some sort of pain.

"What's happening?" Mimi questioned. "Did we win?"

"That was too easy," her partner disagreed.

"No," Jyou interjected. "Look!"

The light was slowly growing more powerful, and soon it became necessary for everyone to shield their eyes.

* * *

"Holy Arrow!" the angelic digimon stated, and then the light became blinding.

* * *

Slowly, Shijo opened his eyes, head spinning. He'd been sleeping, he thought, and that explained the peaceful yet lightheaded sensation he was feeling. Someone was gently shaking him, and he mumbled, unwilling to wake up.

"Is he hurt?" said a voice he distantly remembered but couldn't name. It was a woman's voice, and it sounded concerned.

"I don't think so," answered another voice, younger sounding. "Probably just exhausted, poor thing."

"Shijo? Wake up," said the woman's voice, and again gently shook his shoulder. Slowly, the boy forced his eyes open.

"What happened?" he mumbled. The world spun, blurry, for a moment, and then the young woman's face came into focus. "Did you win?" he asked.

She smiled, a genuine sort of happiness, and nodded. "Yes. He's gone. It's all right, now."

The boy sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around at what remained of the tower room. Any furniture that had been there was now gone, and three of the four walls had disappeared, leaving only a few scattered stones around at the edge of the room. The only wall that still stood led back inside the building.

"Does this mean I can go home?" he asked, getting to his feet. Koromon hopped impatiently on the floor beside him, and he lifted his partner in his arms.

* * *

The lightheadedness had lasted only for a brief moment, and when it passed, Sora found that the world looked vastly different. All the digimon had de-evolved, and the Bakemon and Tyrannomon had disappeared. The Chosen stood around, rubbing their eyes and looking about in confusion.

"What's happened?" Mimi asked, blinking in confusion. "Is it over?"

"It must be," Yamato said, pointing toward the building across the way. "Look. They're gone, both of them."

"So they are," Koushiro agreed, nodding. He was frowning though. "Still, the sky…."

The others glanced upward, and they could see that the sky was still darkened, and not only by a huge cover of clouds.

"That's not all," Jyou noted, turning around and pointing his arm across the river. The nearby village was still silent, no sign of movement from within any of the tiny huts or shops or in the streets.

Sora was dimly aware of the hand that still gripped her own, and she squeezed it, almost involuntarily, staring at the sky. "Do you still have that prophecy, Koushiro?" she questioned.

Takeru and Iori were making their way toward the rest of them, but Miyako was not with them, nor was Wizarmon. In fact, there was no sign of either of them.

Koushiro rummaged in his pockets and produced a piece of paper on to which the prophecy had been copied. He peered over it with a deep frown.

"Where's Miyako?" Sora asked Takeru when he had come close enough to speak with.

Takeru gestured, pointing with one arm toward the prison. "She said she sensed something different closer to the building, and that it might be Ken. She went to investigate, and Wizarmon went with her."

There was a moment of stunned silence in which all the others considered this new bit of information. "Is this possible?" Mimi wondered. Eyes turned in Koushiro's direction. He looked up from the paper with a thoughtful expression.

"Miyako seemed to think so," Patamon reported. "She said that Ken was still Chosen, so if the sleep spell didn't affect us, it shouldn't affect him, either."

"True," Koushiro said. He sighed. "She shouldn't have gone, though. I think it's best we stick together. I'm certain this isn't over yet."

"Why?" Yamato wanted to know. "I mean, aside from the state of the sky…." He glanced upward, a grim expression on his face.

"That's exactly it, actually," the wizard replied, passing the other his paper. "The prophecy says that after the light has erupted, six days will pass in darkness."

"The sky covered by many bats," Tentomon finished.

"The sky is certainly covered," Mimi put in, and shivered. "Six days of darkness?"

"Hasn't there been enough darkness?" Palmon complained. "I miss the light."

"What happens after the six days have passed?" Jyou wondered.

"We'll find out," Taichi said.

* * *

Something, Miyako could scarcely imagine what, had wreaked havoc upon the once sturdy prison fortress. Crossing the river, she saw the building for the first time with clarity despite the continuing darkness.

There were sturdy stone walls which surrounded on all sides an open courtyard. A heavy iron gate blocked entrance and exit from the courtyard, and from the center rose a tall tower. It was the top of this tower which had taken severe damage, and which was now held up by only a single, wavering wall and a few wooden posts. The courtyard, Miyako could see from beyond the gate, was filled with heavy stones and bricks that had fallen from the uppermost tower.

Wizarmon followed Miyako toward the gates, silent. In a way, Miyako was assured by his presence. She would have preferred to go alone, but if it were necessary to be accompanied, it was better Wizarmon than either Takeru or Iori. She didn't particularly feel like listening to Takeru as he questioned her or Iori when he told her it wasn't wise to go after Ken.

Wizarmon, though, followed after her quietly, observing as she did the disintegration of the building. The iron gates were still securely fastened, but to magic they were of no consequence. Miyako shut her eyes, gathering the magic around her, but the digimon shook his head, indicating that she should not.

"Allow me," he said, and the gates swung open almost before he was finished speaking. They passed through the heavy gates and looked head on at the courtyard.

It had once been a foreboding sight indeed, for the walls on either side rose three stories high and were lined with cages – some tiny cells, some huge blocks into which dozens of prisoners must once have been housed. Miyako shivered, imagining hundreds of eyes peering out from behind the iron bars, watching her as she slowly entered the courtyard.

The entrance to the tower – the main structure of the prison at the center of the courtyard – was a single iron door, but blocked now by the pile of rubble that had crashed down to the ground.

"I hope there was nothing living within this courtyard," Hawkmon stated.

"So do I," Miyako answered, quietly.

With some difficulty, they made their way over and around the heavy piles of rocks. Occasionally, Wizarmon used magic to nudge aside some of the more disruptive or largest piles of debris, but they both knew it would be best to conserve their energy.

Hawkmon took to the air – being of little use on the ground – and perched upon an upper level of the courtyard, looking down at the proceedings.

"Hello," said a quiet voice, so completely sudden that it startled the bird. He turned to see a small and familiar green digimon sitting not too far away from him, his head poking out from between the bars of the nearest cell. The bars were of no consequence, for they were spaced wide enough so that he could easily slip between them.

If the voice had startled Hawkmon, the identity of the speaker startled him even more. He was silent for a moment, beak agape, before he was aware of it and shut his mouth. Still, he could think of nothing to say.

Wormmon didn't seem inclined to speak, either. He seemed aware of Hawkmon's astonishment, and so he was quiet, watching the progress made below, slow as it was.

"So Miyako was right," Hawkmon finally said, speaking as though he were musing to himself, coming to a conclusion. He nodded. "Where is he, then?"

"He's gone inside," Wormmon answered, gesturing toward the building. "He went to find the boy and the princess, but he'll be back."

"Is that so?" For a moment there was quiet. "What boy?" Hawkmon asked then.

The caterpillar only shrugged lightly.

* * *

Shijo had managed to get himself to his feet, though he felt weak and unsteady. As weak as he felt, though, he imagined the princess felt worse, for she seemed disinclined to walk or even to stand. She looked slightly pale – but she had seemed pale the last few days – and in her lap sat a small digimon that he slowly came to recognize as a Plotmon. For a while, he was confused, and then he realized that after the evolution the beautiful Angewomon must have de-evolved.

There was a rumbling that he thought might have been an earthquake, though a mild one. Koromon, still sleepy-eyed but slowly awakening, put that thought from his partner's mind.

"It's the building," Koromon said. "The roof's going to collapse."

He became aware, then, of the sad state of the room. The walls, made of heavy stone bricks, had been badly damaged from the fight. Three walls were barely standing, only the corner supports managing to hold the roof up for the moment. The fourth wall was undamaged, but it was hardly enough. Shijo shivered, the realization of the peril coming to his mind.

"We need to leave here," he said.

The princess nodded, but made no move to get up. For a moment all was quiet, and then the building shook again. Wood shavings floated down from the ceiling above like tiny snowflakes.

"I'll help you," he offered, holding out a hand. "Let me help you. We cannot stay here."

She looked at him for a moment and then nodded, slowly. "I know," she said. "I can make it."

She took his hand and he scarcely thought about the gesture or the way it felt or how fearful he was that somehow she might not be able to escape and what that might mean. How much trouble would he get in? Would he somehow be blamed? He pushed the thoughts from his mind. _We need to leave this building_, he told himself instead.

* * *

The door opened and the hall stretched before them, long and dark. In the distance, they could hear a creaking of wood and the sound of water dripping. Miyako conjured a ball of fire as she had done before – for light – and they slowly entered the hall.

Hawkmon flew from his perch, a strange expression on his face, and followed his partner into the hall. It was so dark, though, that neither Miyako nor Wizarmon noticed.

* * *

There was a great deal of stairs in front of them, and Shijo was not anxious to climb down all of them, but of course there was no other way down to the ground save jumping from the window. They walked slowly, the princess leaning upon his shoulder with one arm and the wobbly wooden railing with the other. Each step seemed to take an eternity to overcome.

"Are you hurt?" Shijo ventured to ask. She shook her head slowly.

"Just tired in a way I have never been before," she answered, stopping to rest for a moment. The staircase seemed to stretch for an eternity. "It must be the magic – if what he said was true."

"We mustn't trust the words of the enemy," Plotmon advised her partner.

"No, I agree," the princess responded. She took the next step, leaning heavily upon the railing, and sighed. "Ought I to trust the words of friends, then?" she asked.

"I don't know," the other answered, frowning.

There was a footstep on the stairs ahead of them, and around a curve appeared the stranger that had awoken Shijo earlier. He seemed to relax when he caught sight of them. The princess took a step forward on the staircase without the assistance of the railing or the boy's arm.

"He's all right," Shijo told her.

"I have not come to do you harm, your majesty," the stranger said, bowing low. "I give you my word."

"We have met before," she said, and took another step forward. He nodded.

"That was a different time and place," he replied. "I have come to help you."

She smiled at some shared memory the boy did not comprehend. "As I knew you would," she said.

* * *

The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, with heavy doors on either side that seemed to have no visible means of opening. Miyako shivered, imagining that once each door had concealed another prisoner from the light of day and wondering what sorts of crimes they had been imprisoned for.

At long last the hallway ended and a long staircase stretched before them. Here, a few flickering torches lit the way, and so Miyako closed her hand into a fist and extinguished the flame.

"Do you hear that?" Hawkmon questioned, his voice barely a whisper, yet echoing off the stone walls.

The others listened, and became aware of the sound of footsteps, slowly making their way down the staircase in front of them. Uncertain of whether they ought to feel fearful or hopeful, they waited until they were in the presence of the others.

A small, ragged looking boy who looked as though he had eaten little in several days walked first, carrying in his arms a small pink Koromon. Occasionally he glanced backward to see the others coming behind him safely, and he walked slowly so that he might not trip over the stairs.

Miyako sensed no dark magic on the boy, indeed no magic of any kind, and so she relaxed visibly, causing the others to let out a breath they had been holding. Behind the boy, however, was an indistinguishable figure clad from head to toe in a black cloak. She felt fear for the briefest of moments, and then she became aware of the strange sort of familiar magic around him and she knew who this stranger was immediately. Her heart leapt and a string of confusing emotions ran through her mind.

Before she could easily grasp hold of her feelings, however, she caught sight of who he carried in his arms. It was Hikari, looking paler and thinner and more haggard than she had ever been before, and yet also stronger, for Miyako could see and sense the magic around her as she had never been able to before.

The courtyard was as quiet and still as it had been before, and here the stranger set Hikari down on her feet and, though she wobbled for a bit, she seemed strong enough to stand. Miyako sympathized, remembering when she had first used magic and how tired it had left her. She had fallen to sleep and remained in bed for more than a day. It seemed Hikari felt similarly, but she was still awake.

"My brother –," Hikari said, her voice weak.

"He is across the river," Wizarmon reported. "At this moment, he is likely making his way toward us. Shall we go and meet him?" She nodded, and he slowly began to lead her away, through the courtyard and the heavy iron gates.

"Won't you come?" Miyako asked the others. The boy looked up at the other and she remembered then that she had felt the magic restore another life, and she knew the boy was the one that had been revived.

"Go with her," he said, and the boy nodded.

"Won't you come?" Miyako repeated.

He shook his head. "It's not time. I'd rather not."

"But - ," she began, and then hesitated.

"Should I go ahead?" Shijo asked, and they both nodded, almost in unison. He was gone a moment later.

"When will it be time, then?" Miyako asked.

"I don't know," he answered.

"Will you go home? To see your mother?"

"When this is over, perhaps. I don't know." There was no one else there now, and she could see his eyes from beyond the shadow. "My memories are still a jumble."

She nodded slowly, though she didn't understand, and tried to read something from his eyes. "Why did you come here? Why – why that boy?"

"I was searching for someone, and I thought I sensed him here. I chose the boy because I remember him." He turned away.

"Sensed someone - ," Miyako echoed. "With magic? Who? I don't… was it Daisuke? Was he here?"

"I don't know."

"Ken…."

* * *

"Are you hurt?" a thousand different voices questioned from every side of her, and Hikari felt weak.

"No," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just tired." And then she shut her eyes and was asleep.

Jyou pushed through the crowd. "She doesn't seem hurt," he confirmed. "Let's let her rest. Build a fire, keep us all warm."

Behind them, there was a deep rumbling sound, and the roof of the building crashed suddenly down upon the halfway destroyed topmost level with a horrific crashing noise. The shock of the explosion caused the level below that to collapse.

There was silence, and Takeru shuddered, the only sound in the aftermath, watching as a huge dust cloud rose from the wreckage. "Is Miyako - ?" he wondered.

"She's there," Patamon told him, pointing with one long ear toward where the young mage was standing, a few steps from the gate. She was coughing, the dust cloud being thick, but seemed otherwise unharmed.

The sun rose and then set again and there was little change in the light on the ground. A dim haze appeared in the daytime and a dark shadow enveloped the world at night. Hikari slept through the day, and it was only long after what should have been dusk that she awoke once more.

They had laid her on the ground, a blanket upon the cool grass, a warm cloak over her. She had slept deeply through the day and had been undisturbed by any noises.

The others waited through the day, unwilling to journey from the space they occupied until Hikari had awakened. There were a few fish in the river, and Shijo helped Iori to catch one or two. The rest of their food came from the supplies they had carried – which were low but still enough to last a day or so more.

Koushiro and Wizarmon studied the prophecy, a task the others tried their best to assist in. They knew there would be six days, and then the darkness would be reborn, and their time was limited, but the going was slow.

They had built a fire and gathered themselves around it for warmth and light. With magic and a steady supply of wood together it was kept going day and night. The woods were not far off, and so Yamato and Takeru together hauled in wood. Takeru remembered the time in the Eastern forests, chopping and hauling wood through the cold snow, and wondered where Daisuke was at that moment. It was at least a bit more bearable to be assigned to the task now that it was warmer.

Miyako had not spoken much to the others since the collapse of the tower. She stood near the river, watching the empty prison or watching the water flow beneath her. Sora, concerned for her friend, sat beside her in what would have been late afternoon had there been sun.

"Did you find him?" she questioned, arms wrapped around herself to ward against the cold.

"I'm not sure," Miyako answered.

* * *

Sorry again for the many delays. I'm almost finished with my last year of school, and this is making me very busy. Thanks for reading, reviewing. More to come. 


	14. The Last Day

**Enter The Light **

**Part Fourteen: **The Last Day

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: _Digimon_, not mine. Plot sort of is. This part is borrowed greatly from the original, which is, as I said above, not mine.

**Also**: The author is not responsible for any sort of mental/emotional damage which may be incurred by the reader after reading this story.

It gets better, I promise.

* * *

Hikari slept almost continuously for five days, and when she did awake, briefly, it was only to eat a little food before she returned to sleep. She seemed to have no interest in conversing with the others.

She seemed to be mostly uninjured, only tiny cuts and bruises, yet she slept as though she had been through some great trauma, which was true in a way.

On the morning of the sixth day, the sun rose unseen behind the clouds of black and the fluttering wings. Thunder rumbled in the clouds and the lightning began not long after what would have been dawn. The flashes of light appeared intermittently, almost randomly, in the sky.

Hikari sat up before any of the others had awakened. She pushed aside the blanket atop her and got to her feet. Her toes were bare in the cool grass. Thunder rumbled softly and the lightning flashed.

There was another brief flash of light that didn't come from the sky, and Plotmon became Tailmon once more. With big blue eyes, she watched the clouds.

"This is the last day," she said, and followed Hikari to the river.

* * *

It was mid morning by her own estimate when they found her, sitting on the banks of the stream and watching the water gently flow past over tiny rocks and pebbles on the bed.

Taichi breathed a sigh of relief and waved a hand, signaling to the others. They slowly moved off, back toward the fire where they could prepare food.

Hikari seemed to notice none of this. She was sitting, cross legged, in the thick cool grass by the riverbank. The crest dangled from her neck on a thin string that seemed near to breaking, and she clutched it in one hand. Her eyes were shut – for a moment he feared she might have sleep-walked – and a serene expression was on her face.

He sat beside her and waited, uncertain of what should be done. Sleepwalkers ought not to be awakened, he had heard, and so he waited.

After some time, Hikari opened her eyes and turned her head to face her brother, who had not yet taken his eyes from her. "Hello," she said, and smiled a half-smile.

"Are you – ?" he began.

"I'm fine, Taichi. There is more at stake here than me."

He nodded, a frown appearing. "You know something I do not?"

"And you know something I do not," she returned. "It is the last day."

"I know," he answered. "Do you know what will happen?"

She nodded then, but turned her face away from his and looked up, toward the covered sky. "I have seen parts of it. I don't understand it completely."

He didn't have an answer for this, so he waited, a thousand unformed questions passing through his mind and leaving again, unspoken.

Hikari stood up, her bare feet making barely a noise in the damp, soft grass. The fabric of her nearly threadbare skirt rustled as she moved. She turned her eyes back toward her brother. "I hope you are willing to risk yourself," she said then, and her eyes were soft and concerned.

She turned to walk away. "Hikari," he said, scrambling to his own feet quickly so that he might follow her. She paused and turned back to him. He straightened his shoulders. "I am."

She smiled, but it was a sad sort of smile, and her eyes were filled with concern and love. "I know," she said.

* * *

The evening had fallen after the last day, and there had been no change, nothing to report. They ate some fish and what remained of their rations – unwilling to take from the people in the town.

Upon observation, Miyako had helped to determine that those who were asleep within the village were indeed under some sort of spell, and with Jyou's help they knew that they were mostly unharmed. The spell had not caused any sort of damage, and it seemed that while asleep, those enspelled had no need of food or water, for the spell kept them alive – at least for the time.

The lightning continued with increasing frequency, periodically illuminating the landscape. There was nothing to do but wait, and so they waited.

Hikari has spoken little upon her return. She had responded with the same gentle smile to all those who questioned her about her state, and she had nodded when they asked if she was all right. She said nothing further, but sat near the fire, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

When evening had fallen – although it looked more like day because of the continuous lightning - she stood up and crossed to the opposite side of the clearing.

Yamato was seated on the ground, having just completed his share of the evening meal, and now he sat, thoughts on the future and the past. He had seated himself some distance from the fire, preferring to be alone for the moment, and took no notice of the others until Hikari sat beside him on the thin blanket he had made his own temporary bed.

"I hope," she said, "that you are willing to risk yourself."

The voice from the silence startled him from his own thoughts, so much so that for a moment he couldn't comprehend what had been said.

"Are you saying that I'll die?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Then why do you ask such a question?"

"It needs to be asked."

He considered this for a moment and then fell backwards onto the ground, gazing up at the black sky. The lightning flashed once, twice, then a third time. "I should like to think I am," he said finally.

"I see. I am glad," she said, and stood.

Yamato stood abruptly. "Wait – Hikari," he said, and she stopped, turned to face him. "What – I don't understand."

She smiled a sad sort of smile. "I don't either," she said, and walked away.

He watched her, his mind asking a thousand questions and yet not knowing what any of them were. She walked slowly from him, past the fire where the others were gathered, waiting, keeping warm, finished with their meal, and sat some distance from them, looking at nothing and seeing nothing.

Thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed.

A cool breeze blew through the makeshift camp, making the flames dance lightly. Takeru shivered and hugged his arms to himself.

There was little noise. Miyako and Sora sat close to each other, conversing with soft voices. Iori was quiet, sitting a little apart from the others, warming his hands by the flames. Koushiro and Wizarmon were also apart, some distance from the fire, looking over the words of the crumpled prophecy and no doubt discussing some other magical problem. The boy that had come with Hikari from the rubble of the prison, Shijo, was slowly sipping a mug of hot tea that Mimi had prepared, and she sat beside him, drinking as well. Jyou appeared to be near sleep, lying on his own thin blanket with his head near the fire for warmth, looking with half-opened eyes toward the blackened sky above and quietly speaking with Gomamon, who was flopped across his torso.

Takeru sighed, feeling restless as he was sure all the others were. The waiting was tiring, and the sky was depressing. Patamon sighed, an echo of his own sigh, resting upon his head. He stood, stretching his legs and arms, and walked a few steps from the fire, just to escape.

Another breeze blew, gentle, almost warm, and he saw Hikari there, almost as though he had never before noticed her. She was sitting a few steps away from the edge of the fire, but seemed undisturbed by the cold. The breeze blew her hair, sending strands in all directions, and fluttered in the fabric of her skirt. She didn't seem to be seeing anything that was in front of her, and Takeru imagined to himself that she seemed lonely.

Without knowing what he would say or do, Takeru crossed the distance and sat beside her. He didn't have anything to say, he realized, and so he contented himself with being silent. Patamon settled in his lap and so he absently began to scratch his partner's ears.

"Are you afraid?" Hikari asked suddenly, completely unexpectedly.

"No," he said, but then regretted it. "Maybe a little."

She nodded slowly. "I am, too," she said, and turned to face him.

"What are you afraid of?" Takeru questioned. She didn't answer, and the conversation faded off into silence. "I'm afraid of the unknown," he said, after some time had passed.

"I'm afraid it won't work."

Again there was quiet, and Takeru sensed that there was more she wanted to say and yet couldn't, so he asked no further questions.

"I'm sure we'll be fine, though," Hikari said then, and smiled.

* * *

The lightning increased in frequency and yet no rain fell. The thunder grew ever louder, and there was no storm. In the midst of the rubble of the fallen tower the lightning touched the ground. The Chosen gathered around the prison's outer walls and waited.

The sky grew darker and then there was a sudden flash of lightning and a clap of thunder that crashed into the ground. It was a brighter flash and a louder clap than before, and even from safety across the moat, Shijo could feel the ground beneath his feet shake and rumble. He gripped Koromon tightly in his arms.

He could see, even from a safe distance away, that a black creature of some sort was rising from the midst of the rubble of the building, and after a moment he determined that it was the same vampire digimon that had been defeated. Now, though, he was different in some way.

* * *

Perched in a half-destroyed, leave-less corpse of a tree some distance away, the one who had left the courtyard of the prison-fortress watched, scarcely blinking as the bright lights flashed again and again, signaling the evolutions.

"Do you think we should help?" the small green caterpillar digimon questioned, a worried look in his big blue eyes.

"I don't know that we'd be of any use," his partner replied, shaking his head. He shivered. "No, I think our part here is finished," he said instead. "All we can do now is watch and wait."

Then, his eyes strayed toward the edge of the battle.

* * *

"Maybe we ought to get further away!" Koromon shouted over the sounds of the battle, and Shijo not bothering to disagree with his partner, took a few steps backward and then a few more. No matter how far away he got, though, he knew there would be little refuge and little safety. He would never feel as though he were safe so long as the massive black creature still lived.

"I hope they beat it," he confided to his partner, his voice low. He squeezed tighter. "They will, won't they?"

"Without a doubt," said another voice, one that he recognized, and the boy turned to see the dark figure behind him. "You're not safe here. Come." He turned and walked away. Shijo followed, propelling his legs into a run so he could follow.

"Where?" he gasped when he had caught up. They had climbed steadily the side of a rise in the ground, and they were now overlooking the pile of rubble where the prison had once stood and the ongoing battle.

It didn't seem to be progressing well. The dark figure that had once been Vamdemon and was now something even more powerful rose higher and more massive than the prison had once been. Despite the blasts of light that shot at him in a rainbow of colors, the digimon didn't seem to be affected. With a swing of one massive hand, he tossed aside a few of the digimon. Shijo winced in sympathy.

"Can't you help them?" he demanded of the figure standing beside him. It shook its head solemnly. "Why not? Can't you try? You broke the spell, didn't you? You woke me up – why can't you help?"

"I don't have that sort of power," he answered, his voice sharp. "Not now, not on my own. Do you want me to rush in heedlessly and get myself killed, or do you want me to keep you safe?"

Sobered, Shijo sat down on the ground, frowning. "No," he replied when he had calmed himself sufficiently to answer. "I'm sorry. Don't go, please."

The conversation ceased, and the boy turned his gaze back toward the battle. A few massive explosions sounded, and the ground shook heavily. Shijo shielded his eyes from the bright lights, but when they had faded, the massive dark digimon didn't seem to be damaged in anyway.

"Are you sure?" he asked then, glancing back toward the figure that had seated himself next to him. "Are you sure they can win?"

There was only a momentary hesitation before the answer came, a curt nod.

* * *

Takeru's face had grown pale. Patamon, still in his arms, not yet evolved, stared at Hikari with wide eyes. "Are you - ?" he started to ask, then stopped himself. "Yes, I can see you _are _serious. But - …."

"But it sounds crazy," she finished. "I know. But it's the way, it's the answer, it's the only way. Think about the prophecy, Takeru. _'Angels of Hope and Light_,_'_?"

Wizarmon had the sort of expression in his eyes that one normally gets when one knows what one must do but is reluctant to do it. He shook his head slowly. "I should have remembered this," he said.

"Remembered?" Patamon echoed. "You mean – from the last time? From the first Chosen?"

"I am not _that_ ancient, young one," the wizard digimon replied with some humor in his eyes. "I remember learning this prophecy years ago, and I remember a few other things that are too distant to completely remember. I was young then, too. But she's right," he finished, nodding as the solemn look returned to his eyes.

Takeru looked at his partner, and for a long time they held a silent conversation with their eyes that none else was privy to. Finally, the human half sighed a reluctant sigh and nodded. "If you think it's the only way," he said, "then we will try it."

"And if it doesn't work?" Tailmon put in sharply, directing the question toward them all. Hikari shivered.

"At least we will have tried," she answered.

* * *

Two bright lights suddenly appeared, and Shijo squinted through it, desperate to see what was happening. So bright was the light that he was certain it would be seen across the ocean, if the spell had not affected anyone living across the ocean.

When the light faded, he saw for the second time the beautiful and angelic digimon he credited with having saved his life, and beside her, another. For a moment, all Shijo could do was stare in dim astonishment, and then he thought to glance in the direction of his companion.

"I never thought I'd live to see it," the figure muttered in a voice so soft that it was nearly a whisper. He got to his feet, trying to see better the distant scene.

* * *

In an instant, Hikari's words made the prophecy clear. Koushiro nodded in agreement, as though it all made sense, and Wizarmon, too, seemed to understand. Taichi stared blankly toward his sister, as though he had never seen her before, and then back toward the battle.

There was a pain-filled shout, and Agumon came tumbling out of the sky, crying out as he soared. Taichi sensed his partner's distress before he saw the yellow digimon take flight, and then he dove forward just in time to catch him.

The bats in the sky overhead squeaked in an approximation of happiness. The others shivered, and their unspoken thoughts whispered in the air. Now what?

Yamato folded his arms across his chest, frowned, and nodded to his brother with an expression indicating his certainty on the matter. Takeru hesitated, but only briefly, before he nodded as well.

Taichi got to his feet. "Are you certain?" he asked his sister. Hikari shook her head.

"Nothing is certain," she answered. For what seemed an eternity, they didn't speak and yet seemed to communicate to each other. Taichi set his partner down on the ground and nodded.

"Let's do it, then."

* * *

Due to Hawkmon's concerns, Miyako had stayed on the ground, where it was at least mildly safer, but she had not stayed out of the fight this time. Instead, she had evolved her partner and sent Holsmon into the fray while she reluctantly watched from a distance. The massive creature that was Venom Vamdemon was so huge now that her partner became a brown and red speck against the black darkness. She squinted through the shield of the magical spectacles – without them the entire world became a massive black fog.

So preoccupied with keeping her sight locked directly on her partner was Miyako that she scarcely was aware of the sudden bright lights that flashed nearby, signaling not one but two more evolutions. A few minutes later, however, a yellow blob was sent across her line of vision and she followed it for a moment before a massive fiery bird distracted her, shooting flames toward the vampire digimon.

"Look out!" someone shouted, and Miyako turned her gaze toward the ground. Nearby, ghosts were rising from the grave – frightening, smiling Bakemon. She could see one rising behind Sora, and, when she turned to face it, another rose on her other side. "Look out!" Iori's voice inserted again. Waving some sort of weapon that Miyako could not quite identify, the youngest Chosen charged the ghosts, shouting for his battle cry for his partner's evolution. Armadimon, not yet evolved, promptly did so, and as Digimon he swiped away the ghosts quickly.

Miyako felt alone for a reason that she was unable to completely explain. She turned her gaze back toward the sky and tried to re-locate her partner. Another light distracted her, and she turned her head again.

Two magnificent and angelic digimon were preparing to attack. Miyako felt first awe – for she had never before seen Angemon, and had glimpsed Angewomon only from a distant. Then she felt a bit of triumphant hope – Angewomon had defeated Vamdemon easily – surely she could just as easily defeat him now, even if he were more powerful and had managed to evolve.

Both digimon formed bows made of light and notched arrows. Anticipation made Miyako's heart leap and thump in her chest, and she waited, certain that the arrows would be enough to defeat the monstrous enemy. Suddenly, however, her eager hope turned into concern, for neither angel seemed to be aiming for the enemy.

Instead, both had pointed their weapons toward the ground.

* * *

Expecting pain, Taichi shut his eyes against the bright light and the upcoming discomfort. He expected that it would hurt worse than anything he had ever felt before.

He felt a sharp poke in his chest, but no further pain. Instead, a strange sort of sensation rushed through him, and he felt as though he was being carried away on a rapidly moving river. The light seemed to be making a lot of noise – his ears were filled with an empty white noise, and he found himself in a world of silence. All he could see was a white light. When he tried to move, he felt no pain, but his limbs would not respond. For a brief moment, fear gripped him – was this death?

Slowly, the light dimmed and he became aware of the world beyond him. The silence faded – he could distantly hear a repetitive, high-pitched noise and he became aware of Agumon shouting.

* * *

For some time nothing happened, and Takeru felt his throat nearly close. His brother didn't seem to be moving or speaking. It was likely only a few minutes that had passed since Angemon had fired the fateful arrow, yet it seemed like an eternity of silence.

Gabumon was quiet, too, watching Yamato with some concern in his eyes. Suddenly, he seemed to come to a conclusion, and nodded abruptly.

"Gabumon evolve!" he called.

* * *

I'm sure you all know what happens next, though there are a few unanswered questions. I have and will avoid re-writing things that are already known and don't change at all from teh original. The first half of the story is finished, and now I can get into the real meat of it, the unexpected,new stuff. Yea!

Please don't: threaten me or have some sort of serious mental breakdown. This will get better, I swear!

Please do: review, read, and stick around. I'm actually moving pretty quickly with this story and with school nearly over I might actually have some free time. Email me if you don't feel like leaving a review or if you have questions or comments or something else.

I promise I _will_ resolve everything, eventually. I won't leave you hanging for an eternity. Thanks again for reading, ja ne!


	15. Interval Space

**Enter The Light**

**Part Fifteen:** Interval Space

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: _Digimon_ characters, etc are not mine. Plot _is_. Go away lawyers.

* * *

Takeru awoke to find the light of dawn shining in his eyes and a gentle, warm breeze tickling his nose. He wondered if he was dreaming, because he didn't feel awake. He rolled over and shut his eyes again, aware of a soft, fluffy pillow and warm blankets. For a few moments, he was dead to the world.

Then, he heard a dull noise some distance away, and his mind was jolted into reality. Without even being aware of his movements, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and blinking in the brightness of the room.

Patamon was still asleep, curled into a ball at the end of the bed. Takeru moved his right foot and felt it tap against his partner's soft underbelly. Giggling in his sleep, Patamon rolled on to his back, his long ears spreading out beneath him. He mumbled contentedly, and Takeru found himself unable to resist the urge to attack the unprotected underside of the small digimon. He tickled him lightly with his fingertips. Patamon giggled more, rolled left and then right and then finally awoke, laughing harder. Takeru laughed until his stomach ached and Patamon stared at him, indignant.

The room was spotless and clean and appeared to have been untouched in the time he had been away. A gentle breeze wafted through the partly open window, rustling the curtains. Takeru saw that a freshly laundered set of clothing was at the edge of his bed and his digivice was resting safely on the nightstand. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and made his way to the window.

Below, the grass had begun to take on the greenness of spring. There was a damp smell to the air, the previous night's rain having only recently finished. Gardeners were already busying themselves in the courtyard below, pruning the blooming shrubs, planting flowers, removing the already strong weeds.

"They don't remember being asleep," Patamon noted, following his partner's gaze. "They lost eight days."

"I'm not sure if I ought to be envious…," Takeru replied, turning away from the window. He slid shut the heavy curtains and removed his night shirt. He yawned as he stretched his arms over his head and sighed.

Frowning in thought, Patamon watched his partner dress for a few moments. "You want to lose time?" he asked, confused.

Fastening the top button of his shirt, Takeru shook his head. "No," he answered immediately.

"So – what are you envious of, then?"

"Well…." He ran his hands idly through his hair, doing his best to neaten it. "I envy that they all stayed at home – that they all remember nothing of what happened." He shook his head and the hairs fell out of place again. "I get to remember things for the rest of my life, though."

Patamon flapped his ears enough to gain altitude and perched on his partner's head. "So you want to have amnesia?"

This elicited a chuckle. Takeru pushed back the curtains once more and then pushed open the window and took a deep breath. The trees were nearly ready to bloom, he could smell the faint scent of blossoms on the breeze. "No," he answered, watching a few people wander the gardens below. "I want – I don't know what I want. I don't want people to be sad, but I don't – I don't think I want to spend the rest of my life fighting, either."

"But… if you don't fight and then people are sad?" his partner questioned.

"If I have to fight to keep evil and darkness away from this place, then I'll do it," Takeru said then with conviction. "I just wish I didn't have to."

* * *

Miyako half-expected anger, but it didn't come, and in a way she felt worse because of that, for she couldn't defend herself or explain. Hikari had barely spoken, but she had a certain expression in her eyes that betrayed an inner hurt. Miyako had seen it when Vamdemon's evolution was finally defeated, deleting in a massive bright implosion caused by a full on attack by two of the most powerful digimon ever to appear to human eyes.

For a moment, they had all stared with gaping mouths and wide eyes, and then Koromon had appeared, de-evolved, and Tsunomon, and both Yamato and Taichi had forgotten their shock and given way to a proud sort of relief, running forward to catch their exhausted partners in their arms. Then, everyone else had felt relief and a sort of joy had overtaken the group, putting aside their exhaustion for a brief period of time.

Miyako had seen then, in Hikari's eyes, exhaustion more clear than anyone else's – and why shouldn't it be, for she had done more than anyone else, been at more risk than anyone else – and she had seen a sort of confused hurt.

Hikari knew, Miyako was certain. But in the days since they had returned home she had said nothing about it. Perhaps she had put it from her mind for the time being or even forgotten it, though that seemed doubtful.

She was also distant from everyone, barely making eye contact or seeming to pay attention to anyone who spoke. Takeru, Miyako, and Taichi tried their best to cheer her up or to at least determine what was wrong, but Hikari seemed entirely uninterested.

Outside, in the sun, Miyako tried her best to focus on meditation but her mind kept wandering back toward Hikari. It was some time before she was able to absorb herself in a meditative trance and keep her focus on her aura and the magic around her. She scarcely noticed someone sit beside her on the garden bench and was thus surprised when she finally opened her eyes and saw Hikari sitting beside her, watching her closely.

For a moment there was silence and then Hikari finally spoke.

"None of this seems real."

* * *

Taichi had been unfocused, too, despite the work that continued to pile in. He took a break for a moment, and escaped into an empty room where he could stand near the window in the quiet and feel the warm sun against his skin. For the moment, he emptied his mind and felt at peace with the world.

Movement outside, below him, caught his eye, and he saw Hikari, slowly moving through the short, growing grass wandering. A door behind him opened, but he didn't turn. He recognized the footsteps.

"I thought I might find you here," Sora said, leaning against the window beside him.

"There's been no luck?" he asked, turning to her then. "No sign, no further clues?"

She shook her head, frowning, not needing to ask what he was asking about. "None of the magic-users have reported anything different from what they sensed before. It's as though he's disappeared from everywhere."

"I'm not sure Hikari will be herself until he's found – until we've some word," Taichi said, looking again toward his sister below. "I think it's why she seems so listless."

"She won't believe he's dead," Sora informed him. "Whenever anyone has tried to suggest it as a possibility, she only says that he can't be."

Taichi pulled his gaze from the window and sighed deeply, folding his arms across his chest. "My mother was right," he concluded, and sank down into the window seat with another sigh.

* * *

Miyako smiled secretively. "Nothing has seemed real to me in the past year," she said, shaking her head. "A year ago, I had scarcely ever left my home and I knew nothing of magic. Now? Now I haven't been home in months and I'm learning to use magic."

Hikari yawned, though not out of disinterest, and Miyako suddenly saw exhaustion. She was about to suggest rest when Hikari shook her head. "It's not a tired feeling I have been able to cure with rest," she said as though knowing what the other was about to say. "I need you to teach me."

"Teach you?" Miyako echoed. She thought about asking what she was to teach, and then changed her mind, shaking her head demurely. "I'm hardly qualified."

"You're more qualified than me," the princess returned.

There was silence for a few long moments. Miyako stared for a brief moment, focusing her sight. Hikari, aware of some sort of scrutiny, was quiet, immersed in her feet.

"I did _see_," she said after Miyako had apparently finished and turned away and was thinking. "I saw when I tried to see – not what I wanted to see, but what I needed to see, I think. I want to try to see what I _want_. Do you know – do you know why I could? Why that sword helped me? It was you that told me I should…."

"I don't know what you know…," Miyako began hesitantly, then sighed.

"I know there is magic that was kept from me. That's what Vamdemon said, and, even though I'm not certain why he would tell me, it makes sense. I have no reason to believe he was lying."

Miyako sighed deeply. "He wasn't," she said gravely.

"Why - ?"

Again the young mage shook her head. "It's not my place to say," she answered. "Already I've told you more than I should – but you already know, so there is no point in keeping secrets." She shrugged lightly.

"And the sword – do you know?"

"It was a hunch," Miyako confessed. "You said it belongs to your family? Your mother, grandmother?" At Hikari's nod, she continued: "I shouldn't say this, I expect, but the magic you were told of is in your family strongest in the women. I thought that perhaps that might have been somehow in the sword as well. If it did help you, that may be why."

"Whatever reason, it did help – and I need help again. My dreams are – they are luck. I cannot control when I dream, and I have not for some time." She stopped, wrapped her arms around herself as though for warmth and looked out at the sky in the distance, not really seeing anything. "I want to find him. I know – I can't explain how, but I _know _that Daisuke is still alive, and I – I want to find him."

Shaking her head again, Miyako said: "No other wizard or mage here has had any luck at all searching for him."

"I know," Hikari answered, nodding without turning her head away from the distant sky. "I want to try, though."

* * *

Gabumon sat on a cushion on the floor, idly munching a carrot, his eyes flickering as he followed the movements of his partner across the room, but not otherwise moving. Patamon lounged beside him, on his back, eyes half-opened, ears flopped lazily at his sides, not really watching the sparring match.

There were few sounds in the room. The carrot crunched in Gabumon's teeth. Patamon breathed deeply as he hovered between sleep and wakefulness. Occasionally, one of the brothers grunted in exertion. The swords clanked metal on metal. Footsteps thudded on the ground, but softly.

The walls were made of thick stone, aged centuries since the castle had been built, now a dull gray. The floor was a deep, dark, rich wood polished and cleaned until it shined, scattered cushions and mats sparsely covering the surface. In each corner was a small table covered with candles, and a few sconces were available on the walls for further lighting. Now, though, it was day, and light streamed in from the large windows, facing a garden path that meandered lazily around the grounds.

Takeru wore a light green tunic, dark brown pants, and nothing more. His blond hair was tousled from the exertion, matted in parts with sweat and wild in others. Sweat beaded on his forehead in the warm sun. Yamato was dressed same as his brother, though with a dark blue tunic, and the effort of his movements showed on his face as he fought.

Patamon yawned loudly in the silence. From outside, idle chatter of people on the grounds filtered through the windows, but it was distant enough that it could not be clearly heard.

There was a knock at the heavy wooden doors, and then one creaked open. Iori's solemn green eyes peered around the door and took in the scene. Noticing him, both brothers halted their actions.

Yamato wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Something wrong?" he asked, his brows coming together above his eyes.

Iori shook his head. "No need to pause the fight on my account," he said. "This is nothing that cannot wait."

Takeru sat heavily on the closest cushion to him, letting his weapon fall to the ground beside him. He lay back and breathed heavily for a few moments, resting. Yamato crossed the room and removed two towels from a small table. He wiped his brow again with one and then tossed the other to his brother. It landed on the younger boy's face.

"No, I think we're finished for today," Yamato said, also breathing heavily. "My brother is exhausted, and I need a bath."

"I'm no more exhausted than you!" Takeru countered, slowly getting to his feet. "I'm younger, remember."

"You never let me forget." He wiped his brow once more and then put the towel around his neck. "If you don't need me," he said to Iori, "I think I'll go take that bath." He bowed good-bye and left the room. After a moment of thought, Gabumon decided to follow.

Takeru sighed, shaking his head. "My brother has too much energy," he said. "I am tired. Don't tell him I said that though." He grinned.

Iori shook his head. "I won't," he answered, only the faintest of smiles appearing on his face.

Oddly enough, the younger Chosen's smiled caused Takeru to frown, but he said nothing. "I believe I could use a bath as well," he said, putting his towel around his neck as his brother had done.

He was half-way out the door, having taken Patamon with him, riding, still half-asleep, on his head, when Iori said, almost casually. "When you have time…."

Takeru paused, turned around in the doorway, and waited for Iori to finish. When he didn't, Takeru asked: "What does he want with me - ?"

Iori shrugged lightly. "Don't know," he answered. "I suspect it has to do with Hikari…."

* * *

Hikari stared blankly at her brother, seeming not to completely understand what he had said. Taichi waited a moment for it to sink in, preparing himself for – something. He wasn't sure what.

There was a light tap on the door and it opened slowly. Takeru, hair flat and damp against his head from his recent bath, poked his head around the door, a questioning expression in his eyes. Taichi waved a hand, indicating he should enter.

"I told Iori you didn't need to hurry," he said, and Takeru shook his head.

"No, I didn't," he said. A drop of water fell from the edge of his hair and landed on his nose, questioning the truth of his statement.

"I think you're right," Hikari said, and Takeru became then aware that he had entered in the midst of a conversation. Hikari didn't seem to be aware of him, at any rate. She was peering out the wide window of the second-floor room even while she spoke. Tailmon sat on the window seat, looking, like Patamon, as though it was a great effort even to stay awake, and Takeru wondered what she and Hikari had been doing to tire her so.

"I'm glad you think so," Taichi said, looking pleased. "You look exhausted, Hikari. A rest will do you good."

Hikari sighed as though she were exhausted, and turned away from the window, catching sight of Takeru as she did so. For a moment she looked at him as though she had never seen him before in her life, and then she said: "Are you to come with me?"

"Come where?" Takeru asked.

"To my mother," she said. "Near the sea."

* * *

The sky was cloud-covered and gray, but it was only clouds dimming the sun and for that Miyako was grateful. Takeru, dressed in a dark green jacket and dark brown pants, looked up at the sky while he stood on the stone steps. His face was a mixture of confusion and solemn acceptance.

"For Hikari's sake, I hope that if he _is_ all right, that he hurries back here," he confided to Miyako in a low voice tinged with impatient annoyance. "Otherwise, I don't know what good her mother can do."

"She says he's alive, that he's all right, somewhere," Miyako told him at a similar volume. "I'm inclined to believe her."

"Why?" Takeru demanded, his voice still a whisper, but now with some intensity. "When all the mages and wizards have sensed nothing and there's no evidence for that." When Miyako gasped in surprise, he added: "I don't want him to be dead, but if he is…I hope he isn't but…."

Miyako sighed, put her hand on his shoulder. "I know," she said. "You want to protect her. So would Daisuke. Still, she has her reasons. Let her believe it, for now, at least."

For a moment, he was quiet, and then he, too, sighed and shook his head. "I don't think that I could say anything that would convince her otherwise."

The door behind them opened and Hikari appeared. Like Takeru, she was dressed in clothes suitable for traveling – it would be a two-day journey to the ocean's edge where they would find the Queen. She wore a simple dress in dark blue – a solemn sort of color for her that she did not often wear – and the edges were tinged with a similarly solemn maroon color. As she had for the past few days, her mind seemed ages away, as though she was only half-present.

"Are you ready?" Takeru asked, even though he could see that she was not, and might not ever be ready for anything ever again. He held out a hand, and she took it. She looked at him, again, he thought, as though seeing him for the first time and not really knowing who he was. He helped her down the steps.

There was no one else present, for it was still early morning and they had said other good-byes the day before. There was only Miyako to see them off, to watch as they entered the carriage and Hikari peered back as though she was seeing something entirely different from what was there.

"I'm sorry I cannot come with you," Miyako felt the need to say before the door was shut. "My sister – the baby might come any day and I need to be here, with her…."

Hikari nodded absently. "I shall make do," she said, and then briefly seemed to actually _see _Miyako for the first time. "I have not given up hope. Last night, I dreamt."

* * *

The room was small by the standards of the ancient palace, but comfortable. Momoe Inoue, quite a bit pregnant now and so disinclined to move very much, was seated in a comfortable chair, her tired legs resting on a stool in front of her. She wore a dark blue and purple nightgown and a pale pink robe – the most comfortable thing she had to wear. As she was not interested in going to any parties or dancing, she didn't bother to squeeze into less comfortable clothing. She was reading over the latest bit of correspondence from her husband, who was planning to arrive within the next few weeks – hopefully in time for the birth.

Now she sat near the window, looking out at the gardens below which were beginning to bloom. A bit of cloth to embroider was in her lap, but she had been doing little more than sewing and knitting in the last few months and was taking a slight break.

Mimi sat in a chair across the room, which was not nearly so far a distance as might have been expected, her mind fully occupied with the cloth that she was working on, her hands working steadily to make each stitch in precisely the right place. She wore, as usual, a pink gown, and her long hair was partially pulled back with a number of pink ribbons. A few braids dangled along the side of her face.

Miyako, like her sister, was more interested in peering out the window, and as such her own work – which she had never had much interest for in the first place – was not quite so impressive as that of any of the others.

For some time there was silence, as each young woman was involved with her own thoughts and work.

Abruptly, Mimi set down her work, sighing just loud enough to indicate her frustration. "I'm tired of sewing," she said bluntly, and stood. "I'm becoming stiff from hours of sitting."

Miyako felt the urge to yawn and did so despite her best efforts to avoid it. "I don't know why I should feel tired," she confessed when the others both looked at her with some surprise. "It's not as though I've done much today."

"I think your mind is tired from being in two places at once – or is it three?" Momoe told her sister. "I'm not much interested in sitting inside today. It's so nice out. If you would both help me up, I think I would like to go out to the gardens and enjoy the sun."

Mimi was immediately cheered by such an idea, and so crossed the few steps to Momoe's chair before anyone could do so much as blink. "I would very much like to be in the gardens today," she said, taking Momoe's hand in her own. "I would like to take comfort in life."

Miyako thought to finish Mimi's sentence with one of her own, but thought better of it and instead helped her sister to rise. It was a difficult task, but not impossible. With both to lean on, Momoe had no problem making it across the room. They helped her into her shoes, but she wasn't interested in changing clothes.

"Pregnant women can walk about in their robes," she said. "It's too much of a hassle to dress. Let me enjoy this while I can."

She made it down the hall without a problem, but needed some help to navigate down the stairs. Once outside, she was content to relax for a bit on a bench. Mimi wandered a short distance away to admire some tulips that were beginning to poke through the soil. Miyako sat beside her sister and looked up at the sky. It was a clear blue, with only a few big, white, puffy clouds floating lazily past.

Momoe gently poked her sister. "Where does your mind wander?" she asked.

"In the sky," Miyako answered. "It seems a safe place to journey."

* * *

Um. Yeah. This is one of those chapters where nothing happens, so I filled it up with unnecessary descriptions.

More to come soon.


	16. A Discovery Or Two

**Enter The Light**

**Part Sixteen**: A Discovery or Two

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Plot mine. Story notmine. Please, don't sue. Thanks!

* * *

The room was dark, damp, and musty-smelling, with no features that could be seen by human eyes. Hikari felt cold and warm at the same time. Distantly, she could hear water dripping and then she thought she heard the rattle of a chain. She shivered and called a "hello?" through the darkness. Her voice echoed in what sounded like stone walls and an empty space and returned to her sounding frightened and afraid.

She started to walk, because it didn't seem to make sense to stand and wait for something to happen, taking small steps and moving her hands in front of her so she could feel for something before she walked into it. She'd traveled some distance before she felt cold metal at her fingertips.

It was cold and hard and when she tried she found that her fingers curved around the metal – it was, she realized, a long thin metal pole. Keeping hold of it with one hand, Hikari reached outward into space and was somehow unsurprised to find another metal pole less than an arm's length away.

She thought she could make out a shape beyond the poles, which as she kept feeling in the dark, seemed to form a square, the shape in question being in the midst of the poles. An urge began to creep into her consciousness – the urge to find out what that shape was, and to get closer to it. Almost at the same time, a thought entered her brain that would not disappear, no matter how hard she tried to push it aside (and, admittedly, she didn't try particularly hard).

It was a dream, she realized at the moment when she found herself unexpectedly on the opposite side of the metal poles, with no recollection of how she had gotten there. Hoping it was not a nightmare, and the thing she was now closer to than before was not a monster, she stepped away from the metal barrier and closer to the dark shape.

Again, the thought entered her brain, but this time it was more than a simple thought. This time it was a deeper sort of thought that felt true in some way, though she could not explain how.

She took another step closer, listening as intently as possible. "Hello?" she whispered, not daring to say anything else.

The dark shape moved, and the darkness of the room seemed to lessen. It seemed to be a human-shaped shape now, with a head and legs. It was no more than four steps away from Hikari, but she could make out no features. Instinctively, she stopped, freezing at a sudden movement. It made a noise that sounded like a low moan, but a low moan that was distinctly recognizable. It made the noise again, only this time it sounded more like a word.

Hikari took another step forward, squinting her eyes, peering through the darkness. She stretched out one arm as though it might aid her, and then she felt pain that was not her own.

It was uncertain quite how she knew it was not her own and not simply some new pain that had chosen to attack her at that moment, only that she did not recall ever having felt a pain that strong and could not figure out from where it might have come. It was not a single pain, but a thousand pains, each a thousand times more painful than anything she had felt before, throughout every part of her body.

She took a step backwards and the pain lessened. Her head spun, and she was suddenly aware of a mental sort of pain – the discomfort of one who has been trapped for quite some time and cannot get home. A revelation came to her mind that this was the pain of the person before her, though she knew not how it was that she came to feel it.

"What did they do to you?" she asked, and her voice came out as more of a moan than individual words.

"Everything and nothing," the other answered, his voice only a whisper. "Go. I won't let you be hurt, too."

She already felt the pain – so this was a moot point, but she didn't say that. She took a step forward, this time bracing herself against the onslaught. "Why don't you come, too?" she asked. "Get out of here? I know you want to, I can feel it…."

"I would," he said, and she could feel as well as hear the sigh of resignation. "I cannot. I don't have strength to break free."

She took another step forward – only two steps away now – and winced as the pain doubled in intensity. She could feel tears forming at the edges of her eyes. "Let me help you." A hoarse whisper now.

"No," he said. "You need to escape this place while you can."

Another step forward, another pause to bear the pain. Hikari could feel his emotions now almost more intensely than the physical pain. She forced her feet to move again and then was but centimeters away. She looked up, into his eyes, and saw with clarity.

"I won't leave you. I won't," she told him, and she could feel him sigh again. "I'll save you."

"I don't know if you can."

There was a long silence. Hikari let her breaths come slowly, with great effort. "Daisuke," she said with barely the strength to speak, now. "Where are you?"

"I don't know."

* * *

If Shijo had been more quiet than usual since his return, no one had noticed, just as no one had noticed that he had been gone or that they had lost eight days. Sometimes he thought he saw his mother looking at him with a questioning expression, as though she suspected something was on his mind, but she didn't approach him to ask about it.

The prison that had once menacingly stood across the river was gone, but this did not seem confusing to the villagers in any way. "They must have come during the night and demolished it," his younger brother Maigo decided. For a moment, Shijo debated, but then decided not to argue. It wasn't as though anyone, even his own family, might believe his story, even if it was the truth.

All that remained of the once sturdy building was the lower half of the walls and a lot of scattered stones. Standing on the bridge, peering at the gates – which were still standing, even though the walls on either side had fallen, Shijo wondered what he had been frightened of. It was only a building. Without the Bakemon, it was a dead, empty shell of a building.

"I wonder what happened to the people inside it," Maigo said. His partner, a small Motimon, stared with wide eyes.

Shijo had wondered the same thing himself. "The prisoners were taken out when they closed it up," he said. "But the guards remained, I'm almost certain…I wonder if they killed them?"

"Why would they do that?" Maigo wanted to know, shivering.

"Not sure." Cautiously, Shijo made his way across the bridge, which had been damaged badly by falling stones and bricks from the upper tower when it had collapsed. There were now numerous gaping holes in the wood, and he carefully avoided them. Maigo followed him, leaping over the gaps.

The iron gates were still shut and locked, but the walls were of little consequence, and so the brothers wandered freely through the rubble, climbing over the massive stones and bricks.

There were few treasures to be found – anything of value had left the prison's walls when it had been closed. There were a few scraps of cloth and paper on the ground, flattened beneath the stones, but there was no sign of blood. Shijo was relieved. He had been worried that someone else had been in the building at the time of its collapse – namely the dark stranger that had saved him.

"No," said a voice. "No one else."

Startled, both boys turned toward the voice, and it was the stranger in question. Despite the warming weather, he was still dressed entirely in black, a cape and hood covering his face. Shijo thought he could make out two eyes peering through the shadow, but no other features were visible.

Maigo took a step backward, behind his brother, and stared with wide eyes. "You're certain?" Shijo asked, unafraid. Maigo stared at _him _with even wider eyes.

"Certain," said the stranger. "There is nothing left here – no one and nothing."

"No!" said Maigo suddenly, so sharply that both of the others turned to look at him.

"What - ?" Shijo asked.

"No, there's something here," Maigo said, apparently so certain about this fact that he had forgotten his fears. "I don't know what, but there's something. It's why I wanted to come here."

"How do you know that?" Shijo demanded. His brother shrugged, looked away sheepishly.

"No, leave him be," said the stranger when Shijo opened his mouth to further question his brother. "He should learn to trust his instincts. It won't be long now before he's called."

"Called to what?"

"You may not be brilliant, but he's your brother and you must have noticed something about him by now."

Maigo opened his mouth briefly, then shut it and looked at the ground instead of his brother. Shijo blinked, staring with wide eyes. "You don't mean – but how can you know? You said yourself you don't have any magic!"

"No, that's true," said the stranger in a thoughtful voice. "I am not sure how I know, but I'm fairly certain."

Shijo sat down on a rock, feeling overwhelmed. "What will happen to him?" he asked.

Maigo stared at his feet for some time until he felt the urge to wander away from his brother. He did so slowly, lest he be noticed.

"I don't know," the stranger confessed. He sat on the wall, two pale, bare feet dangling from below his cloak. "Is there a wizard in your village now?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"Then the next time a mage travels through your village – or even near your village," Shijo glanced reflexively at the house of the Lord at the top of the hill in the distance, "they may sense him and recommend to your mother something."

"They would send him away?"

"They may. I don't know how mages are trained. I am not one."

"I think I've found something!" Maigo called.

* * *

The journey so far had been quiet and uneventful. Hikari seemed uninterested in conversation, and Takeru didn't want to force her, so he was quiet. He looked out the window at the passing scenery, but it was only fields and distant hills, then trees and bushes, then further fields.

They stopped for the night, deciding to camp rather than stay in a village inn, and the next morning rose early so they might reach their destination by evening with no delays.

Takeru had fallen asleep and was dozing when the carriage stopped abruptly and he heard the driver and the other servants shouting in surprise. Hikari was out the door before he had fully awakened, so he followed behind, yawning.

In the center of the road ahead stood a man – or so Takeru guessed –dressed in a black cape and hood that covered his entire body. Next to him stood a boy, dressed in rags and covered in dirt. His hair was an unkempt mess, matted with dirt so it was impossible to tell a color. Takeru felt a bit of anger swell inside of him, but he clenched his fists and pushed it down.

Hikari seemed to feel and see little. "You still live?" she asked, and Takeru was astonished by the lack of emotion in her voice.

"For now," answered the other. "I see you were also lucky."

"So it seems."

"What - ," Takeru began, but Hikari turned to him and shook her head once. Feeling only more confused, he obeyed, shutting his mouth and frowning.

"You want something," Hikari said, turning back.

"I have to leave here," he returned, and nodded. The boy standing beside him took a step forward and then sank down to his knees in a smooth, practiced movement. "I have no further use for this one."

She was silent for a moment before she said, "I don't either."

"I see." From somewhere that Takeru could not see (he wished he had Miyako's sight so that he could tell if magic was involved) the stranger removed a long sword. "I cannot bring him with me. If you will not take him, I must dispose of him." He nodded sharply and the boy lifted his head.

Takeru shivered, seeing what was planned and seeing the expressionless state of the boy's eyes. When the boy had raised his head, Takeru could see the faint hint of gold around his now exposed neck. In a flash, he realized that the boy must be enspelled. "Why don't you set him free?" he burst out before he could stop himself.

"That would be the ideal situation," the stranger answered. "I do not know how."

"Why not?"

"The spells to bind slaves were lost for some time. I discovered the book which contained the spell and gave it to someone for safe-keeping. An acquaintance of yours, I believe."

Takeru gasped, and Hikari said, "It was you! You that gave the book to Daisuke!"

"Hmm. Unfortunately, the book has been lost, and with it, the spells to free slaves. I cannot bring him with me. If you do not take him, I will dispose of him."

"Wait," Hikari said. "What happened to him – the one you gave the book to? Why was the book lost?"

The stranger was silent for a moment, and then he said in a sharp tone, "I did not come here to answer your questions. I have limited time. If you will not take this boy, then I must dispose of him." He raised his sword high.

"No, don't kill him," she said, turning her head away from the scene. "I will take him, if only to save his life."

"So be it," he answered, and the sword disappeared. He turned toward the boy, still kneeling, waiting. "You no longer belong to me," he said to him, and raised one cloaked arm toward Hikari. "She is your new mistress. Go with her."

Then, he was gone.

* * *

It was a tiny, oddly-shaped box, dark blue in color, a few raised sections appearing on it. It lay between two large pieces of rubble, half covered by dirt. Maigo stared at it, but seemed reluctant to touch it. Shijo climbed down into the space between the rocks and retrieved the item. It felt cool and dusty in his hand. He stuffed it in the pocket of his trousers and then climbed up.

"What is it?" his brother questioned, and Shijo removed the object once more. He held it out, staring blankly at it.

"I'm not sure," Shijo answered. He poked it with one finger, and then poked the raised portions. One part moved, but nothing changed.

"It's a digivice," said the stranger's voice, and both boys jumped, having forgotten he was still present. He held out one arm and Shijo placed the item in his open palm.

"A what - ?" Maigo echoed.

"A digivice," Shijo said. "One of the Chosen – but who? Who would leave it behind?"

"Someone who couldn't take it with them," the stranger said. He was silent for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes. Memories. I must bring it to her."

"To who?" Maigo piped up – having nearly forgotten his timid nature in the excitement. The stranger was again silent, as though he did not quite know the answer to that question.

"To the princess?" Shijo wanted to know.

"She would be better than no one."

* * *

"Do you have a name?" Takeru asked politely. Hikari was quiet once more, her mind already distant from the situation. She had only really seemed like herself, he thought, when she had been asking about Daisuke. He sighed.

The boy shook his head. "No sir," he said. "No need for one." His voice was quiet, hoarse-sounding. Takeru gave him a canteen full of water and told him to drink his fill.

Already, they were traveling again, not wanting to delay their trip any more. Hikari was quiet, lethargically watching the scenery out the window, leaving Takeru to care for their newest passenger.

He didn't seem hurt – though any serious sort of examination would have to wait – mostly dirty and thin, and Takeru thought that a bath and a good meal would likely do him a world of good. He wondered to himself a thousand questions that he didn't think Hikari would be inclined to answer, and so he pushed them aside for the moment and gave the boy some bread and cheese. They hadn't brought much food on the trip – choosing to travel as light as possible. Still, the boy ate hungrily and drank the whole canteen of water, bowing politely and murmuring a grateful thanks afterward.

"No need for one?" Takeru asked, shaking his head. "Didn't your mother name you when you were born?"

The boy paused in his eating and answered, "I don't know, sir. Slaves don't have mothers. Only master. Or mistress," he amended.

"Weren't you something else – _someone _else before you were a slave?"

He seemed to consider for a moment before he answered this time. "It doesn't matter, sir. The past is lost now."

"Lost?"

"Yes sir. Slaves have no memories of _before_. It would be distracting."

* * *

Miyako sat in the gardens on a soft mat below a large, shady tree, a thin shawl over her shoulders to guard against the faint breezes that occasionally brought a chill. Distantly, she could hear joyful laughter – a group of people was involved in playing some sort of game with a ball – but she took no interest. Instead, she sat, cross-legged, meditating.

She could feel herself growing stronger despite her fears to the contrary – she could sense now more than she had before. When she opened her eyes, the young mage could see the auras of many ancient spells of protection covering the gardens and the castle. She sighed, peacefully. There was no safer place to be in the entire kingdom – at least not that she had seen.

Feeling restless, Miyako got to her feet and began a slow and meandering walk through the gardens, her mind wandering in a thousand directions, far from where she was at that moment. She was some distance from the palace when she heard a frantic voice shouting for her and the sound of hurried sandaled footsteps on the stone path.

"Lady Miyako!" a servant was shouting. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and then called out again.

"I'm here," Miyako called, waving. "What is it?"

"Your sister!" he gasped, out of breath. "The baby comes, and she asks for you."

* * *

Somehow, be it by magic or something else entirely, Shijo found himself standing in front of a building that was even more massive and impressive than the prison had once been. Perhaps it was because the building did not inspire fear in him.

Maigo stood beside him, eyes as wide as dinner plates, clutching his older brother's hand with a grip so tight that Shijo was afraid he might damage it. The stranger was nowhere to be found. Stuffing the digivice into his pocket, Shijo stepped toward the gate, his brother following behind him.

"Where do you go, boy?" said a rough voice, and Shijo found his path blocked by two long spears thrown in front of his face. Maigo whimpered once, then suppressed a cry.

"We need to see the princess," Shijo said, looking up toward the imposing face of the guard who blocked him. "It's important."

One of the guards laughed heartily, as though he had just heard an amusing joke. The other shook his head gravely. "She's no time for you, boy. Go on home."

"But I can't," Shijo protested. Neither guard paid attention to his words, but simply waved him aside.

With a sigh of resignation, Shijo left the palace gates and wandered down the road. A wide, paved street led to the village not far away, and a few benches were placed along the road. The two brothers made their way to the nearest seat and sat down.

"How are we going to get it to her, then?" Maigo wanted to know. Shijo sighed, removing the strange little box from his pocket and fingering it with his hands.

"I don't know. But we'll find a way, even if we have to wait for cover of night and sneak in," he answered, suddenly feeling confident. He nodded, smiling brightly at his brother. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," Maigo admitted, and his partner Motimon nodded vigorously. Shijo did his best to ignore their digimon – they were _always_ hungry.

"Wait here, then," he said. "I'll go and get us something."

* * *

I wasn't going to include the opening dream-scene. I was going to make you wait to find out more, not that that scene really gives much away.

I do actually have a plan for the ending of this story. Wow.

Anyway, I did as was requested, and had Daisuke appear. Did you see him? I hope you looked closely!

Heh. Don't kill me, please. I promise, there's a conclusion!

I can't…won't give away too much. Sorry.

Thanks for reading and holding on. ;;;;


	17. The Return

**Enter The Light**

**Part Seventeen**: The Return

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: As always, plot mine, characters and merchandise and money not. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to moo.

* * *

It had been a long and exhausting afternoon, and Miyako was half asleep by the time she returned to her room, her eyes half-closed by the time she opened the door. She would have fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, but something was nagging at the back of her mind – as though she had forgotten to do something – and so she didn't undress or fall into bed.

Her head was beginning to hurt, especially behind her eyes. She rubbed her forehead and sank wearily into a chair near the window.

"Is something bothering you?" Hawkmon questioned, concerned, and she nodded.

"I'm not sure what," she answered, "but my head is hurting and I feel strange."

"Lack of sleep," her partner concluded, but he still peered at her with a bit of worry in his eyes. "You should sleep."

Yawning, Miyako shut her eyes part way and felt herself slip down into a half-awake state. "I wonder if it's magic," she said, or perhaps only thought; she was too far from awake to know the difference. She extended her magical senses, seeking out something out of the ordinary. She found the usual sort of blockers in the spells of protection that covered the walls and the rooms, and she sensed the magic of the other spell-casters in the palace.

Sensing nothing strange, Miyako let her mind and her magical senses wander even farther. The grounds were empty, and the gardens were clear of anyone or anything with magic. She let her magic wander back to her own room and then she moved it in the other direction, spilling out the window in her room and wandering along the outer walls and the paths leading from the gates and there, on the path, she sensed something strange that she could not easily identify.

* * *

It was not exactly cold on the path, but nor was it warm, and Shijo shivered. Maigo had fallen asleep beside him on the wooden bench. A few patrols of guards had gone up and down the path, but they hadn't noticed the boys on the bench. Shijo wondered if that was luck or some reflection of his brother's still-hidden magic.

He opened the bag his mother had given him, wondering if he ought to have persuaded her to let them go, if he ought to have told her that the stranger that had advised him and provided for his transportation was the Dark Bandit when he was not, and how it was that his mother had given in so easily, so easily accepted the idea that Maigo might be a mage of some sort.

She had accepted it all with such ease that Shijo was left wondering if she really understood what it was he was asking. He had shown her the digivice and he had explained to her all that he could without sounding crazy and he expected that she believed him because he had thrown in a reference to the Dark Bandit rather than a dark and mysterious stranger. Maigo had stayed silent but watched his brother with wide eyes, knowing the truth. Shijo told himself it wasn't entirely a lie – he suspected it _was_ the truth.

Their mother had prepared a small bag with a jacket for each boy and a few coins so they might be able to buy themselves something to eat a bit later. She hadn't bothered with any other necessities, but had told Shijo to keep an eye on his brother and to do his best to stay out of trouble.

He removed his brother's coat now and draped it over his shoulders to keep him warm, and then put on his own jacket. He was resolved to stay awake for as much of the night as he could, though he knew that he'd likely succumb to sleep before long. He felt a bit of guilt in the pit of his stomach, but pushed it aside – he was doing what needed to be done.

The digivice was heavy in his pocket, and he took it out again and turned it over in his hands, wondering who had lost it and why they had not returned for it. It made no noise and showed no sign of life – and he wondered what it was for. A thousand thoughts went through his mind.

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he heard a noise and awoke. It was nearly dawn, but still dark, and a small shadow was on top of the back of the bench, two eyes peering down at him in the night. Shijo jumped and backed into the corner of the bench, fear suddenly coursing through his veins. He could feel Koromon stir at his side, and then he remembered his brother and stood up abruptly.

The shape seemed startled by the sudden movement, possibly more startled than he, and it fell backwards on to the ground. "What do you want? What are you?" Shijo hissed, unwilling to speak aloud in the night.

"Easy, boy, I'm a friend," said the shape, composing itself. It was some sort of digimon, and a flying one at that, for it easily fluttered back to its perch on the bench. "My partner's on her way, she'll help you. What are you doing out here in the cold?"

"They wouldn't let us inside," Shijo answered simply, and poked his brother. Maigo rubbed his eyes and sat up, blinking in the darkness and yawning.

There was a light in the distance, slowly coming closer, and as it did the shape carrying it became clearer. It was a young woman that Shijo vaguely recognized – she must be Chosen, he had concluded by the time she was close enough to be seen clearly. And she must be a mage as well, for she carried a light that came from a flame which was not attached to a candle but held in her hand.

She stopped a few steps away from the bench, holding out the fire so that she might better see the boys. Maigo stared with open-eyed astonishment at the floating flame. "Is that magic?" he asked, his sleepiness forgotten. "Can you teach me?"

The woman was taken aback for a moment. She squinted at the boy for a moment. "Maybe not I, no," she answered then, and turned to see his brother. "You're – Shijo, right?" she asked. "What – why are you here?"

"We found this," Shijo answered, removing the digivice from his pocket once more, "In the ruins of the prison that was destroyed. I – he said it belonged to the Chosen. I brought it here – I knew the princess might be interested."

Her eyes wandered down to the object in his hand and then her eyes grew wide in her face and her skin seemed to grown paler. For a moment, she didn't seem able to speak, and then she said, "He who?"

Shijo glanced toward his brother, then opened his mouth to tell the same lie he had told their mother. Before he could, though, Maigo spoke up, saying, "A stranger in a black cloak. He said I might have magic. _I_ found it."

The woman turned and faced Shijo. "Was it the one - ?" she began and he nodded.

"Yes," he said. "The very same."

"I see," she said, and was silent for a long moment. "Hikari's gone," she said finally, "but there are many here who will be greatly interested in your find. Come with me – I think Taichi should hear of this."

They picked up their belongings. Shijo took the small bag, and Maigo put on the jacket his brother had draped over him while he slept.

"Ah – the source of your information," she said after they had walked a few steps. "I think he should stay a secret, for now…."

Shijo nodded. "I understand. We told Mama that it was the Dark Bandit."

An amused smile appeared on the young woman's face, and she nodded. "That's perfect," she said. "Absolutely perfect." Listening intently, Shijo thought that she might be laughing to herself.

* * *

If the outside of the palace was impressive-looking, the inside was even more so. The entrance hall had the highest ceilings Shijo had ever seen, and the carpet was so rich and luxurious looking that he felt an immediate urge to take off his shoes so that his toes might feel its soft texture. He tried to suppress the desire to stare with wide eyes and gaping mouth, but mostly failed. Maigo, too, stared openly at the size of the hall.

The woman who had found them curled her fingers into a fist and extinguished the flame she had been carrying. They followed her through the entrance and into a large hall with polished wooden floors and beautiful stained-glass windows at either edge of the hall. Doors made of a dark wood were on both sides of the corridor. Shijo felt as though he would be lost within minutes.

After a few moments' pause the mage led them through a door into an already well-lit room. A fire roared comfortably in a massive hearth, and candles were scattered around the room. Two large, comfortable-looking dark blue couches faced the fire, seated on the edge of a dark green rug. The walls were a comforting old stone gray, with a few tapestries hung on them to keep out the cold. The windows were covered with dark red curtains that seemed to stretch from ceiling to floor. Shijo guessed that the single room was larger than his entire house.

"You can wait here for now," the woman said. Seeing their hesitation, she added, "It's all right to sit on the couches, you won't harm them. Get some rest if you can. It may be a little while before you can be seen. He's not the best in the early morning, but once I've gotten through to him why you've come, he'll want to see you."

Both boys stared at her with wide eyes, and she sighed. "There's nothing to be afraid of." They nodded instinctively, eyes still wide.

"Uh -," Shijo began. "What – I don't completely understand…."

"I know," she answered, nodding sympathetically, and sitting down on the couch. She gestured for them to do the same, and they did so, seeing that she had given definite permission now. "The digivice you found belongs to a friend of mine. We're not sure where he is, and we fear he might be dead or badly hurt. We also didn't think he was ever at that prison, but your discovery changes that."

"He wouldn't have left it behind on purpose, right?" Maigo asked, his eyes still wide.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "He definitely would not have."

* * *

"You should get some sleep," Mimi said sympathetically when they passed in the halls. Miyako only yawned wider.

Iori was combing his hair into place when she arrived. He smiled a brief smile. "I hear it went well last night. You have a nephew. Congratulations."

Briefly she blinked at him, realizing that in the rush of the early morning, she had forgotten her sister and the newly arrived baby. Iori nodded sympathetically, assuming her confusion was due to exhaustion. "You should get some sleep now, you know."

Miyako composed herself and shook her head. "No," she said. "There isn't time. I need to see Taichi. Or rather, I have someone here who needs to see him, but I ought to explain things to him, first."

Iori sighed deeply and nodded. "Wait here," he said, gesturing toward a comfortable chair near the door. "He's nearly finished breakfast."

"Thank you," she said, but didn't sit for fear of falling asleep in the chair. She paced instead, and wandered to the window to briefly peer out at the gardens below. It was still early, and the gardeners were not at work yet. A few people could be seen running through the grounds, hurrying to their work in other locations. The skies were blue, the sun only just beginning to rise in the east.

Miyako shut her eyes, tried to focus her magic so that she might sense Ken if he were nearby, but she was either too exhausted to be of any use or he was not there. The only magic she could feel was far below, where the wizards and mages were working. Koushiro's own aura was strong – he was rarely asleep.

In the room where she had left the boys, Miyako could vaguely sense the magic that the younger boy held, still mostly hidden. It would likely not be long before his magic broke free, as hers had, and she wondered about how another mage might have sensed her before she had broken free.

And as for the digivice that Shijo had brought, what did it mean? It was, like the sword in the forest, no proof either way to Daisuke's life or death. What _did _it mean? That he had been at the prison – presumably before its collapse – or that someone had brought his digivice there. But who? And why?

Miyako was too tired to try to think much more on the situation. A pain was developing in the front of her head, and she decided it might be best to leave such thoughts to those who were awake and better able to consider them.

Iori reappeared, his usual solemn expression in place, just as she turned away from the window. He nodded, briefly, once, and she followed him.

* * *

It was still early when Shijo was awakened by the sound of the door opening. He and Maigo had fallen asleep on the soft couch in front of the fire, but they both awoke now, mostly rested after the long nap.

A woman who was not the same as the one he had seen before was in the door, looking upon them with a sympathetic gaze. She had shorter, brownish hair and wore a pale pink and yellow dress. She had a kind smile, and Shijo was immediately inclined to trust her.

"Hello," she said, and her voice was soft and kind. She smiled pleasantly and carried a tray in her hands. "I guessed you might be tired, so I brought you some breakfast."

The sight of the warm bread and tea quelled any fear that Shijo might otherwise have felt. He got to his feet and bowed low as his mother had told him he must do. Maigo mimicked his actions and then took some bread quickly off the tray lest it disappear if he did not move fast enough.

"Maigo!" Shijo admonished his brother, but the woman chuckled softly.

"It's all right," she said. "He's hungry. Take some for yourself. And some porridge, too. It's fresh and hot."

She set the tray down on a low table in front of the couch. There were two steaming hot bowls of porridge and two cups of hot tea beside the freshly baked bread, and the smell of it all was enough for Shijo. He sat, taking the bowl in his hands.

The woman had been carefully feeding the dying fire with a bit of wood kept in a metal basket beside the fire, and now it was a blazing warmth once more. She sat in a chair across from the boys and waited while they ate.

Since he had started first, Maigo finished first, and he said to the woman, "You haven't got magic, have you?"

"No, I don't," she said. "No magic at all. I leave that to the wizards. I hear that you might, though."

"That's what they said," he answered. "I'm Maigo. Is there someone _here_ that can teach me?"

She smiled. "I'm Sora," she told him, "and there are definitely mages and wizards here that can teach you all you need to know, and more."

His eyes grew wider. "I could really be a wizard?"

"If you have the magic, they can teach you everything there is to know."

This possibility was enough to keep the younger boy's thoughts entertained for a few minutes.

"I didn't know he wanted to be a wizard," Shijo said then, a new realization coming into his mind. "It's all he's talked about for the last few days, but he never mentioned it before."

"I think everyone wants to be a spell-caster at some point," said Sora. "If it's a possibility, then it's even more exciting."

"Did you want to?"

She nodded. "When I was a child, I hoped that I'd discover I had some magic in me. I don't, though, and so now I wish for other things."

Shijo rummaged in his pocket and removed the digivice. "Do you know whose this is?" he asked.

Just as the mage who had found them had done, Sora's face turned paler and her eyes grew wide. It was a brief transformation, though, and then she shut her eyes and nodded. "Yes," she said. "We all do."

"What should I do with it?"

She shook her head. "That has yet to be decided. Keep it safe, with you, for now." She got to her feet and said, "Come with me. You both could use a bath."

* * *

It had begun raining on the second day after they had arrived, and it was still raining now, on the fourth day. Takeru felt restless and alone. There was nothing for him to do here, which hadn't disturbed him in the least when he'd agreed to come. He had agreed not only out of concern for Hikari but also out of a concealed desire to see the ocean.

From his bedroom window, he could see the waves splashing on the rocks below, stirred by the storm. He paced, then stopped because it made him feel silly.

He had not seen Hikari since they had come. When they had first arrived, she disappeared in search of her mother, a sudden sense of purpose and awareness seeming to come forth in her for the first time. It was only because Takeru had spoken up at just that moment that she remembered to tell him to find something for the boy to do, and to tell him to listen to Takeru. He'd arranged for him to a bath and some food, which surprisingly hadn't altered his appearance too much, and then, feeling suddenly tired and listless, had asked the kitchen staff to find something for him to do.

Since then, Takeru had not seen him, either, but nor had he heard of any complaints from the servants, so he assumed all was well.

He was, however, bored.

There was a light tap at the door.

* * *

Holsmon landed, de-evolving as soon as his passengers had disembarked. He was exhausted after the long flight, even though both he and Miyako had slept the entirety of the previous night.

They were standing at the edge of the sea, a sight which none of those now present had seen before. Miyako looked out across the waves, seeing no sign of an end, and felt the cool ocean breeze rustle her skirts. The air smelled like fish and salt and water, a comforting sort of a summery smell, even though it was only spring. The sun was hidden beneath clouds, but slowly beginning to emerge in the sky.

Shijo stared with wide eyes, wondering what further sights would impress him, for he had seen more amazing things in the last two days than in his previous lifetime. "The ocean," he breathed in one exhalation.

"Amazing," Miyako agreed, smiling down at the boy she had transported all this way, wondering what role he had to play in all of this. What had made Ken chose him to awaken? He had said he had memories of the boy – but what memories? How was he connected?

"Is that what we're searching for?" Koromon spoke up, the only one who was not staring out at the water and waves with amazement. His eyes had been distracted by a different sight.

A single carriage pulled by a single Monochromon lumbered slowly along a distant path, driven by a figure that in the distance could not be easily described. No other servants rode along on the back of the carriage to attend to its inhabitants, and only a small amount of luggage was strapped to the top.

Miyako pulled her digivice from the pocket of her skirt. It was silent for a moment. She poked at it a few times experimentally, and it began to beep, slowly and steadily. "Seems that way," she said. "Hawkmon? Have you strength to fly to them?"

The bird digimon saluted with one wing. "I will find out and stop them if it is the case," he answered, and took to the air.

* * *

The carriage had been slowly rumbling along for hours now, having lulled Takeru into a sleepy state. Outside, the sun was bright and the air was clear. Distantly, the ocean waves splashed against the cliff-rocks, but the sight of them had ceased to amaze him.

They were traveling once more, and once more Hikari was silent, lost within her own thoughts. If a visit to her mother had helped her in anyway, she had not said how, and Takeru was reluctant to ask. She had volunteered no information, only told him that she would be leaving the next morning.

"Should I come with you?" he had asked, and she had shrugged in a way that he was becoming accustomed to now, for her attention was not entirely in the present.

"If you wish. I will take him with me," and by _him_ she had meant the slave boy that had been thrust into her care, "because I don't think it wise to leave him here. I don't know that I'll ever return."

And so he had decided it would be better to go with her. He had done nothing in the time spent there besides peer out at the ocean waves in the distance and watch the rains pour down. Now, on the day she had chosen to leave, the sky was clearing and the rains had ceased. He felt his eyes close; the silence made him tired and the gentle rocking of the wagon calmed him.

There was a continuous yet faint high pitched noise that repeated over and over. The carriage stopped and Takeru forced his eyes open, realizing as he came to wakefulness that the sound was that of his digivice. He followed Hikari once more from the carriage in time to see Hawkmon alight atop the roof.

"She's coming," the bird reported in response to the as yet unspoken question. He yawned, tired from the flight, and gestured with one wing toward the ocean.

"Is there news?" Hikari questioned at the same time Takeru peered toward the ocean.

"Who is with her?"

* * *

"There is and there isn't," Miyako said to Hikari's concerned question. "This is Shijo," she told Takeru, who now recognized and remembered the boy. "He and his brother found something."

The young mage glanced quickly toward Takeru before she nodded to the boy in question to reveal what it was he carried. Shijo stepped forward, pulling his hand from his pocket and holding out the object.

Hikari went pale, as all the others had done, and Takeru, too, felt the color drain from his own face. She seemed unable to speak, and so he said, "Where? Where was this found?"

Shijo glanced toward Miyako briefly for assurance. "In the ruins of the prison," he said.

"The prison?" Takeru echoed. He felt weak-kneed and sat on the cool grass, uncertain of what to think. "But – how? When?"

Hikari said nothing, though the color was slowly draining back into her skin. Shijo still held the digivice out and she reached out, slowly, to take it.

"We've come to no conclusions," Miyako answered, eyes not leaving Hikari as she held the object in her hand. "Like the sword, it proves nothing, whether he is dead or alive – only that he is not well. He wouldn't leave it behind."

"No," he said when Hikari still did not speak. "Never."

Hikari closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Miyako could see her aura strengthen briefly, then fade. She was exhausted, still. "He lives," she said, simply.

Takeru sighed deeply and fell backwards in the cool grass, disbelieving.

"You're certain?" Miyako asked.

"His life is connected to this object," Hikari said, eyes still closed. "He lives; I can still feel him, somehow. Takeru doubts me, but I am certain."

"Is this magic?" Takeru asked, propping himself up on his elbows. "Is this magic or is this just hopes and wishes?"

She opened her eyes and turned sharply to face him. "Hope is your department, Takeru," she said, speaking directly. "I speak the truth."

He shook his head. "I don't think you lie. But the mages - ."

"The mages do not know what they are looking for," Hikari interrupted simply. "They do not possess the right sort of magic, and they do not know what to look for."

"Or perhaps they cannot find him in death," he answered quickly, then his eyes grew wide and he stopped himself, covering his mouth with his hands.

Hikari said nothing, only shook her head and sat herself in the grass.

Miyako was silent, but her eyes had turned from Hikari, and she now was almost glaring at Takeru. He shook his head and got to his feet. "I don't want to believe it," he said, his voice soft. "Hikari, I…."

She had stood, abruptly, and he stopped his words. Hikari held up a hand, shaking her head. "No. Not now, Takeru. Something is coming."

Almost as one, all three Chosen turned their heads in one direction, away from the sea. A cool breeze darted across the plains, and the grass rustled like the waves of water. Shijo followed their motions but could see nothing.

"Moving fast, too," Miyako said, glancing toward her partner, noticing then the boy who sat in the driver's seat, still loosely holding the reins, having dispassionately watched the entire proceedings. A strange shiver ran down her spine, but she knew not what it meant nor what to do with it. "I will shield you," she said to him and Shijo. "Stay close to the carriage."

"Are you ready?" Takeru asked of his partner, who had also been perched on the carriage roof, watching. Patamon nodded.

A vicious sort of laughter could be heard then, and a dark space opened in the ground. From out of the darkness rose a tall creature with long, spindly arms and legs wrapped in white bandages and dark leather straps. A weapon of some sort was held in one hand, and he laughed with a riotous, maniacal laughter that inspired fear in the minds of all that heard it.

"Who are you?" Takeru asked, but he only laughed and began to fire his weapon. Loud bangs could be heard, and little bits of fire appeared rapidly in the ground only a short distance from the carriage. Instinctively, Takeru leapt back, throwing himself to the ground and reaching immediately for his digivice.

"Patamon evolve! Angemon!" shouted his partner almost before he had finished thinking.

The enemy laughed, harder, and fired his weapon again. Takeru brought his arms up to shield his face, knowing it was a useless sort of defense, and his partner produced a long wooden rod, which he spun in rapid circles, deflecting the tiny missiles with ease.

Another burst of laughter, another burst of missiles, this time aimed toward the carriage. Miyako concentrated, raised a shield, and they bounced off harmlessly, creating a bit of outrage in their attacker.

"Snake Bandage!" he shouted, the first thing they had heard come from him that wasn't laughter. The bandages extended from his outstretched arm, leaping toward Hikari, who froze, momentarily stunned.

"Hikari!" Takeru shouted the warning a moment before he saw the light grow stronger, and he shielded his eyes.

"Tailmon evolve! Angewomon!"

Having been intercepted, the bandages fell weakly to the ground, their power gone. The enemy digimon laughed harder, though, and fired his weapon into the air. "Send in the troops!" he called amidst the laughter and the miniature explosions.

"Who is he?" Takeru asked, confused. "What does he want?"

"Don't know," his partner answered. "He's angry _and _crazy, it seems."

The air seemed to shimmer behind him like the air in desert heat, but it was not that hot and these plains were no desert. "More come," Miyako warned, sensing the coming danger a moment before it made itself visible in the form of two huge red Tyrannomon.

"What _are _those things?" Shijo wanted to know, his eyes wide and his voice quiet.

"Dangerous," the mage told him. "We're outnumbered. Not that that matters, of course. We've been outnumbered before. But it makes things a bit difficult."

"YAH HA!" laughed the lead digimon again, and fired his weapon again. Miyako cursed mentally and struggled to raise a shield once more. One of the missiles hit the side of the carriage, embedding itself in the wood of the open door and sending little splinters of wood flying in different directions.

The Tyrannomon attacked simultaneously, each choosing to throw a bright red flame directly toward both Takeru and Hikari at the same time. It was quick thinking on their part that sent each running in different directions just quickly enough to avoid the blaze.

Their partners attacked as quickly as they evaded, engaging the Tyrannomon, keeping each of the red dinosaur digimon occupied. The leader, however, was a different story. He laughed continuously, firing repeatedly toward the carriage with such unending power that Miyako felt herself weakening rapidly, unable to maintain a shield under the continuous impacts.

"Run!" she shouted to those she was protecting, and Shijo launched himself away from the carriage at full speed. Miyako brought both her arms up to protect her face and waited.

She became aware of some sort of power building behind her, a rift in the fabric of space that was breaking, rather than bending as it had done so for the appearance of the Tyrannomon or the digimon that had preceded them. Whatever it was that was coming this way was breaking free, it was not being brought to this place. Curious enough to forget her imminent danger, she turned her head.

It was like no digimon she had seen before, a blue streak that flew across the sky at a speed powered by rage, and it shouted no words but an angry battle cry born of hurt and anger. With a forceful jolt it slammed into the bandage-covered leader of the attacking digimon a second before its missiles collided with the carriage, setting it aflame.

The Tyrannomon deleted almost simultaneously. Takeru turned and saw the carriage set ablaze and Miyako emerge from the smoke, coughing, pulling splinters from her hair as she lead the others away from the danger. She turned to see the battle, and his eyes followed her gaze.

"Do you believe now, Takeru?" Hikari asked quietly. He turned and stared at her as though he didn't quite understand.

"YAH!" shouted the bandaged digimon just as Patamon set himself down atop his partner's head, tired. Tailmon flopped in the grass, leaning against Hikari's feet.

"X-Laser!" shouted the mysterious blue digimon. It was a lizard type, with a dragon-shaped head and fierce eyes, blazing red with anger. It chest was white, and with gray markings in the shape of an X. Two white wings exploded from its back, keeping it aloft as it rose higher and easily evaded the missiles. A single horn, sharp as a blade, rose from its nose.

"You mean you think he - ?" Takeru asked, shaking his head.

"Does he not look familiar to you?" she returned, still watching the battle. The enemy seemed nearly defeated now. The bandages on its shoulder were torn and broken.

"He does, but… Hikari, if he is… then where is Daisuke?"

"Nearby," she answered.

"AHH!" shouted the digimon then, and disappeared. It did not delete, but it escaped, disappearing into nothingness the same as it had arrived. A glow surrounded the blue, flying lizard.

V-mon appeared briefly in the grass, looking tired, and then he, too, was gone. Another bright light appeared, and they all turned to the source of it.

Near the carriage, not far from Miyako, the light faded, and Daisuke stood where the slave boy had once been. And then he stood no more, but collapsed to his knees and was unconscious.

* * *


	18. Memories and Rain

**Enter The Light**

**Part Eighteen: **Memories and Rain

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Characters, not mine. Plot mine. Actually, this section is totally mine. So don't steal, don't sue. K? Thanks.

* * *

The sun was still high in the sky, but the clouds were gathering overhead, making it feel and later in the day than it really was when he caught sight of the enormous manor rising behind the iron gates. Wormmon was quiet, eyes following his partner's every footstep. "Do you remember this, Ken?" the caterpillar questioned in a soft voice. 

"Dimly," he answered. "Distant memories. It was raining when I was last here, wasn't it?"

"I think so. Cold and dark, too."

There was a long silence. A warm wind blew through the trees, scattering pink and white blossoms through the air, making the black house look even darker against the colors. There was no movement on the grounds except for what was caused by the breezes, no people to be seen, no noise to be heard.

The wind grew stronger briefly, and laughter could be heard, echoing on the breeze. He turned, sharply, the dark hood falling from his cloak and fluttering behind him in the breeze.

There was no one there.

"I heard it," Wormmon said when his partner glanced toward him. "I don't know where it came from, though."

The wind gusted again, filling the air with blossoms and leaves. The sky was a blend of pink and orange and dark blue in the setting sun. Again, distant laughter echoed.

"Who's there?" he demanded. "Why are you playing games with me?"

"Because it's fun," answered the voice, and laughed again.

"Show yourself."

"As you wish."

The air seemed to fold and melt before him and from within the ripples appeared a woman with silvery hair beneath a bright red hat. She wore a pair of dark-shaded glasses, so shiny that he could see his face reflected in them. His hair had grown longer in the months he had lost, and his eyes reflected an exhaustion he did not recall having seen before. He stared, both at her and at himself, until she laughed, breaking him from his trance.

"Who are you?"

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you?" she said, her voice a mocking tone. She turned her head and with one graceful movement pushed the silvery hair back from her face. "I won't tell you, not yet. It's fun to play games." She smiled a grim sort of smile.

He grimaced. "What do you want?"

"To play games with you. It's going to be such fun, I can tell." Idly, she twisted a strand of hair with her fingertips. "I hope you enjoy yourself. I have high hopes for you."

Then, she was gone.

"What was that about?" he asked Wormmon, who was similarly clueless. He sighed, turning back toward the gates.

The air rippled and bent in front of him and a small red digimon emerged from the middle of nothing. He stood still for only a brief moment before dashing away, moving quicker than the eye could follow.

"Be careful," Wormmon advised. "That's Igamon. He moves quickly, and once he has a target, he is relentless."

"Is that so?" he asked conversationally. He was about to ask something else, when he caught, in the corner of his eye, a glint of shiny metal as it caught the light of the setting sun. He dodged quickly, stepping backwards, and a small star-shaped knife appeared in the trunk of the nearest tree.

"Shall I?" the caterpillar questioned. Before his partner could answer, another star whirled past his head, neatly slicing off the ends of a few locks of hair.

"Without delay."

"Wormmon evolve!"

* * *

The carriage was a raging fireball now, beyond saving. It burned brightly, the flickering flames reaching toward the afternoon sky and the sun high above. 

The plains were silent, with only the tall grasses rustling in the wind. No one spoke. No one moved.

"How - ?" Takeru asked, breaking the silence at the same moment Hikari moved away from him, toward where the flames were leaping, near where Daisuke had collapsed into the tall grass, barely visible.

Hikari fell into the grass beside him, eyes wide, a few tears forming in each eye. "I should have known," she said.

"Is he hurt?" Miyako questioned, moving through the grass. She was squinting, focusing her sight on him now, seeking out hidden spells.

"I don't think so," Hikari answered, breathing a heavy sigh. "Thank heavens."

Takeru recovered his voice, shaking his head as he moved forward. "I don't understand. An illusion?"

"Seems that way," Miyako said, still squinting toward the magic, frowning in concentration. "I don't know enough about spells of illusion or anything like that. All I know is that something was broken, but something else remains. He's enspelled in some way."

"Do you see…," Takeru began, then hesitated, glancing toward Hikari. "Do you see gold, here?" He motioned toward his neck with his right hand.

There was another moment of silence, and then Miyako raised one eyebrow in surprise. "How did you know?"

Hikari sighed, shutting her eyes as she did so. "The spell that binds him, it would not break as easily as that," she said, rubbing her head as though she felt a headache coming on. "He is still enslaved, then."

* * *

"Stingmon!" called the green bug, now significantly larger than the tiny caterpillar he had replaced. 

"Doesn't matter," called the enemy digimon from somewhere in the leaves of the nearest tree. "I'll still destroy you, no matter how powerful you become. Shuriken Throw!"

Wisely, Ken ducked behind a tree, and he heard two solid _thunk, thunk_ noises as the stars were embedded in the trunk. With his left hand he felt a few hairs on the left side of his head, which were now significantly shorter than the right side.

"Stay there," Stingmon advised, launching himself into the nearby forest. Before long, the sounds of battle could be heard, and leaves and blossoms scattered in the wind, the unfortunate victims of the battle.

Cautiously, Ken peered around the edge of the tree, then ducked back behind quickly – just in time to avoid two more stars from slicing off the end of his nose.

"Yahhh!" shouted Stingmon, his voice echoing off the trees. He must have hit something, because there was the sound of a collision, but it didn't seem safe for his partner to check to see.

"Ha-ha!" laughed Igamon. He had either dodged or was crazy.

* * *

"Enslaved?" Miyako echoed blankly. "To – whom?" 

There was a long silence. Takeru sat in the grass and watched the flames grow larger. Shijo had stood for a long time, staring wide-eyed at the proceedings, but now, feeling tired, he sat down in the grass as well, still watching.

"To…me," Hikari said when it had become clear that Miyako wasn't willing to forget the question.

Miyako rubbed the bridge of her nose. The flames leapt high into the mid-afternoon sky. A few embers took root in the dry grasses so the fire spread.

"We ought to stop the fire somehow," Takeru said idly, but seemed disinclined to move.

Taking a deep breath, the young mage lifted her right arm. The wind grew stronger for a moment, and the flames blew in the opposite direction.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Hikari questioned, feeling the breeze. Miyako said nothing. The wind grew even stronger, whipping itself into a tornado.

"Shield your eyes!" Patamon advised, and all did so, as the wind whipped up dust, dirt, and stray leaves and scattered them around.

It seemed as though they were in the center of a tornado for a moment. Shijo covered both his eyes with one hand and pulled the collar of his shirt up to cover his mouth with the other. The wind whirled around in circles, roaring in his ears, and then finally lessened.

"Was that necessary?" Takeru demanded, coughing. He'd managed, despite his best efforts, to swallow and breathe in some of the dust and dirt.

Miyako took a deep breath as though she were calming herself. "No," she answered shortly. "I could have allowed the plains to catch fire and spread from here to the nearest village or town and kill people." She sat down, hard in the grass.

There was a silence for a few moments. Takeru fell backwards in the grass and lay still for a bit, watching as a large, fluffy white cloud passed over the sun. "Now what?" he asked of no one in particular. The cloud moved on. He shut his eyes and yawned.

"We stay here, I suppose," Hikari answered. "Unless you wish to carry him."

"I don't. Then what?"

"Then we keep going."

"Going where?" Miyako asked.

Hikari stood, turning her face toward the ocean. Takeru sat up, listening for the answer to this question. A light breeze blew past, rustling the grass and blowing her skirts in the winds. "Out there, somewhere," she said.

"To sea?" Patamon asked.

"You want to go to sea?" Takeru questioned at the same time.

"There's an island my mother told me about," Hikari answered, turning back to face the others. "She told me to go there because it might help me to find some answers. He said that the spells to free slaves were lost. If anyone knows…."

"He who?" Miyako interrupted.

"I don't know."

"A stranger, dressed in a cloak so dark we could not identify anything about him," Takeru informed her. "He said that he no longer had use for a slave and he would have killed him, right then, if Hikari had not taken him."

Miyako was quiet, but her eyes were wide with shock.

"No," Shijo interrupted. "Not the same."

"No, I don't think so either," the mage said, shaking her head.

The boy sighed, an expression of relief.

"He could not free him because he said the spells were lost. The spells to create slaves were lost, too, until Daisuke found that book. Or rather, until he found the book and gave it to Daisuke." Takeru turned his eyes toward the one he spoke of now, lying in the grass.

* * *

"I don't know where he went," Wormmon reported, and it was only by following the sound of his voice that his partner was able to locate the small digimon among the leaves in the lower branches of a large tree. 

"He's gone?"

"Seems that way."

"I don't think we've seen the last of that woman, whoever she was." He held up his arm and the small caterpillar climbed down on to his shoulder. The dirt crunched under his feet as he turned to face the iron gates and the house beyond.

Rain began to drip, slowly, from the sky, landing softly in the short grass.

"What do you think she wants?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "She said something about wanting to play games, but…why? There must be something else."

Wormmon was quiet. The only sound was that of the ever increasing rain drops as they pattered to the ground, bouncing off the dirt, the grass, the stone wall, and the iron gates. Ken sighed deeply and stepped forward.

Creaking slightly, the gates opened, seemingly by their own power. He pulled the hood of his cloak up to shield himself from the rain and walked along the road toward the house.

The grounds were empty, which was not surprising given the weather conditions. Rain sounded loudly on the stone walk, increasing from gentle drizzle to powerful downpour as he crossed the lawn.

Once, there had been gardens filled with flowers and vegetables, Ken suddenly recalled. A tree with a low branch had once had a small swing tied to it, and roses planted around it. Now, the blossoms on the tree were sparse, looking weak in the dark rain. All that remained of the roses were tangled vines that wrapped around the tree trunk. There was no swing any longer.

He could almost remember, when he concentrated hard enough, his mother sitting on a small wooden bench beside the stone path, watching as her sons played on the swing or tending to the roses. Now, the seat was rotten and the grass beneath it was brown, not yet revived by the spring.

Halting his steps, Ken shook his head. "This is not where I should be."

* * *

The rain had been building in the south for some time now, but by the time it arrived at the coast it was nearly dark. Nothing from the carriage could be saved to offer shelter save some pieces of badly burnt wood. There were no trees to take shelter below on the open plains, nowhere to go within walking distance, and no magical solutions to be obtained, for both Miyako and her partner had tired themselves enough. 

Takeru, with Shijo's assistance, jammed some of the taller pieces of the least-damaged wood into the ground and then draped both his and Miyako's cloaks over them, creating a space only just large enough for them all to fit under, so long as no one stood.

As the sun went down over the ocean, the rain battered the makeshift shelter, loudly echoing above the heads of those huddled beneath.

"We ought to find some way to send word to Jun," Takeru said, and then repeated himself at a louder volume, as no one had heard him over the rain.

There was quiet for a while. Miyako set a pile of already half-burnt wood aflame again for warmth (there was nothing to cook to eat) and then shut her eyes and adopted a pose of concentrated meditation.

After some time, the rain slowly abated, still steadily falling, though not as hard. "Tomorrow," Hikari said abruptly, "we travel north along the coast until we arrive at a small dock beside an inn called the Rusty Plate."

Takeru raised one eyebrow. "You want to eat at a place called the Rusty Plate?"

She shook her head. "Not particularly, no. At that dock will be a man with a boat, with whom I wish to travel."

"To sea?" Patamon asked, turning in the direction of the water.

She nodded. "My mother told me of an island which is a sanctuary for mages and magic of all kind. She told me that to travel there might help me to understand some of myself. I think that, if there is a way to free him, it will be found there."

Both Hikari and Takeru glanced toward Miyako to see if she knew anything of this island, but she was quiet, eyes shut, still meditating, and it appeared as though she had paid no attention to the conversation.

"I think you should take Shijo and return home, Takeru."

A frown appeared on his face and slowly grew more pronounced. "I don't much like the idea of you traveling alone," he said cautiously.

"I won't go alone," she returned. "I want Miyako to go with me, if she will. And Tailmon."

"I should hope so. I'm not staying behind," the feline agreed sharply.

Takeru fell silent, his frown not disappearing.

"It's the court of the Wizard's Council," Miyako said, not opening her eyes, her voice startling all in the quiet. "The Sanctuary Island."

"You have heard of it?" Hawkmon questioned.

"Vaguely." She opened one eye, then the other, blinking twice. "The Wizard's Council judges magic – or rather, those who use it."

"Judges?" Takeru echoed. "What does that mean?"

"The council is responsible for bestowing titles on mages or wizards or sorcerers. They will unite seasoned magic users with apprentices, and send mages to places which need them. They can, if necessary, aid in training."

"How far is this island?" he wanted to know. Miyako shook her head.

"I don't know very much about the island, only about the Council," she told him. "I expect it would be a few days journey out to sea, and I believe it is only reachable by those who have use of or great need of magic."

"I have great need of magical assistance," Hikari said. "Or rather, he does."

* * *

The rain was only a drizzle now, the sun long sunk below the horizon by the time he had convinced himself that he ought to enter the great house. He had argued with himself for a while, and then questioned himself a while longer. There were memories here, and he was fairly certain that his mother still resided in this place, but it didn't seem as though it was the place that he ought to be. Some place, some person, perhaps, far away from where he now stood, was calling to him. This place seemed to both welcome and shun him. 

There were no guards, no servants, and no workers out in the cold rain, and it was not until he reached the main entrance that he saw two doormen lazily resting against the stone walls, oblivious to his arrival until he was nearly past them. They recognized him at once, their eyes growing wider than their faces as they hurriedly bowed.

"M-my Lord, welcome," the braver of the two managed to stammer out. "We were not expecting you on such a night."

For a long moment he said nothing, as if not quite certain if he was the one they were addressing. Then he turned his face toward the nearer of the two men. "My mother - ."

"She is within, sir," came the answer. "Shall I go ahead and tell her you have come?"

He frowned then, turning away from them to study the door with some great interest. "No," he said. "I will go myself."

"O-of course. A-as you wish," he stammered, and they both hurried to their feet so they could open the door. Before they had reached it, however, he had done so himself and was inside.

The hall inside was tall but dimly lit, with only the sparsest of candles and torches on the wall. The sound of the rain was muted here, but his footsteps echoed on the polished stones of the floor. Distant, hushed whispers could be heard, and then the sound of hurried footsteps in the distance.

It was cool but not uncomfortable in the hall. He removed his cloak, dripping wet from the rain and smelling none too pleasant. Carrying it, he walked through the hall and when he reached the doorway at the end, he was not surprised to find that a housekeeper waiting, arms hesitantly outstretched to take it from him. She must have been the bravest of them all, but even she was shaking slightly, her legs wobbling as she stood. Ken wondered what his mother had been told, what she had passed on to the servants, and what tales they had made up themselves to explain for his prolonged absence. He frowned, knowing that the truth would be enough, but knowing that it was not likely that they knew it.

"Can you tell me," he began when the girl had taken his coat. She froze with one foot in the air and though she had turned away, Ken was certain that her eyes had grown wide and sweat was beading on her forehead. His voice, even quiet, echoed frighteningly off the stone walls. He finished in a near whisper: "where I can find my mother?"

It was a moment before she replied, having swallowed her fear and lowered her foot and turned to face him again, though she never dared raise her head to see him clearly. "I-I believe she is in her chambers, m-my lord," she answered finally, her voice squeaking slightly on the last syllable.

"I see," he said, his voice again soft. "Thank you." She turned again to leave, and he called after her in the same volume, "You might throw that out. I've no more use for it now."

He could hear whispers from the hallways as he walked through them, scurrying footsteps. "I can't blame them," he said to Wormmon, who rode perched upon his shoulder. "I would be afraid in their place, too. I wonder what they have been told."

"I can hardly imagine the rumors that have been around," Wormmon answered. "Misinformation spreads faster than the truth."

"This is true," he conceded.

They had reached the door he had been heading for, an ordinary wooden object with an ordinary metal handle, same as nearly every other door in the building. He hesitated as he had done in the gardens, staring at the shiny metal as it reflected a candle on the opposite wall.

He took a deep breath and entered the room.

It was as dim as the corridor had been, and he wondered if he had chosen the wrong room. The memories had not been wrong yet, but perhaps she had moved to another chamber while he had been gone, or perhaps he was remembering wrong, this time.

He took in the room slowly, his eyes seeking to fill in the dark blankness of the space before him. There was a fireplace on the wall to his right, and a window directly before him, through which he could see the rain gently soaking the grounds beyond. The sound of the light shower tapped on the glass panes, surrounded by dark red drapery, tied back on one side with a loose cord. There was a door beside the fireplace, leading to another room, and another window to the left of the first. Between the windows was a small chest of drawers, a small mirror placed on the top of it, reflecting the fire and the room's latest visitor.

To his left was an assortment of chairs and couches and a few small end tables. The floor was covered with a dark red carpet that exactly matched the drapery on the windows. One chair faced the far window, and it was in this seat that a woman sat, watching the rain out the window, sipping a small cup of tea, saucer resting on a table beside her.

She was smaller than he remembered, and older, with a few strands of grey peeking through her hair. He took a deep breath and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him, hoping it would announce his presence.

But she didn't turn, in fact didn't seem to notice that anyone had entered the room at all, and he realized that this was to be expected, for maids and servants had probably been entering and leaving this room all day, bringing her tea and helping her to dress and other such tasks. He would have to speak up for himself after all. He took a step forward and cleared his throat, which was enough to startle her into turning and facing him.

As the doormen had done upon first sight of him, her eyes grew wide in her face and the color seemed to drain away. She blinked three times and then got to her feet, shakily, steadying herself on the arm of the chair. She took a step forward and wobbled, and instinctively Ken stepped forward crossing the room and taking her arm before she fell.

"You live!" she said in one breath, an expression of relief or shock or fear he was not quite certain. "Oh…Ken…you are real, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, Mother, I'm real." He tried a smile, found that it didn't completely hurt, and saw that she was smiling, too. So it wasn't fear she felt, he concluded with some relief.

"Oh, Ken," she said again and collapsed into him.

* * *

Wow. Progress. 

More to come, obviously. Thanks for waiting, reading, reviewing

Enjoy!


	19. At Sea

**Enter The Light **

**Part Nineteen:** At Sea

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Plot: mine, characters: not mine. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to Moo.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon, just past noon. The sun was high in the sky and the air was growing quite warm by the standards of early spring even despite the cool breeze blowing off the ocean. The salty smell of the water had only urged their already empty stomachs to protest the lack of nourishment. 

The Rusty Plate, despite whatever bad reputation its name might have given it, appeared to be a fairly clean and reputable establishment, and so Miyako went in to see about some food while Hikari went to talk to the sailor dozing in the dilapidated rowboat at the edge of the small dock.

The moment Hikari stepped warily on to the creaky planks of the dock the sailor awoke. He was a slightly rotund man with a gray beard and gray eyes that seemed to reflect the water. He was dressed in a battered pair of brown pants and a much-patched blue shirt, a leather jacket loosely hanging off his shoulders to give some protection against the cool sea breezes. His partner, a green Betamon, was napping on the seat beside him, lulled to sleep by the gentle lapping of the waves.

When his eyes caught sight of his visitors, the sailor got to his feet, leaping to the dock with an agility that belied his apparent old age. "A pleasure to see you, your majesty," he greeted, bowing low. "I daresay I hope I might be able to help you."

"I hope so, too," Hikari said, eyeing the rickety boat rocking in the waves behind him. "In that?"

"That rickety thing?" he asked, following her gaze. "Heavens no! In that!" He pointed further out on the waves, where a rather decent-sized, newer looking sailboat was gently bobbing in the water.

Hikari breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

In the daylight hours, the room that Ken had fallen asleep in looked only a little different than it had the evening before. It was only sparsely decorated, with a bed, a few small chairs, some mostly-empty bookshelves, and a dust-covered wardrobe. A large, heavy trunk rested at the foot of the bed, and he was not surprised to find that it held the contents that were lacking from the wardrobe and closet. It was stuffed with clothes, a few books, and some other little trinkets that he had no clear memories of obtaining – a pocket knife, a small change purse, and a few pieces of jewelry. 

He slowly removed the clothes from the trunk, remembering them as he did so, his mind slowly recovering memories when he had worn them and things that he had done. They were neat and clean, though a bit stiff from disuse. When they had all been laid out on the bed, he selected one and put it on, then stood before the tall mirror in the washroom and studied himself.

Thanks to the previous day's skirmish, his hair was now quite uneven, and he thought that it would be best to see if that could be fixed as soon as possible. It gave him an unbalanced sort of look, and he was certain he had frightened enough people for one lifetime.

The trunk seemed empty of clothes and anything else, but something was nagging at the back of his mind, something that made him double check the inside, just to be sure. There was still nothing, just the plain wood that it had been made out of. He ran his hand over the smooth wood and felt nothing out of sorts but the small metal head of a nail.

He tapped lightly on the bottom of the trunk, one half of his mind demanding to know what he was looking for in an empty trunk while the other half of his mind insisted to him that he was missing something. But what?

"I don't know," he said aloud. "Something."

"Maybe it's not there," Wormmon suggested from his spot on the bed. "Maybe it was never brought here."

"Maybe," Ken conceded, but with doubt in his voice. He kept looking, tapping on the sides of the trunk with his knuckles, listening for some sort of an unusual sound. He sighed and gave up, sitting on the floor and staring up at the ceiling. "Or maybe I hid it so no one would find it…."

He shut the trunk and turned it upside down – grunting with effort for the trunk was heavy even emptied – to examine the bottom. Again, he felt along the sides and this time felt a small nail head and a tiny metal latch connected to it. When he dislodged the latch, the bottom opened, revealing another, smaller compartment in the bottom of the trunk.

"You found it?" Wormmon asked, his voice sounding eager and excited.

"Yeah…"

* * *

"No, no," said the sailor in answer to Miyako's curiosity. "Not much of a mage myself. I'm content on the water, and I don't know too many spells save those that have to do with the water. If we come to a storm, it'll be you to save us, not I." 

"I'm not much of a mage, either," Miyako told him, but he shook his head, waving aside her truthful modesty.

"The ocean will help you, no doubt. At any rate, we'll likely not see much storms. It'll be a quick journey, I wager," he said with a grin.

The boatman made himself busy turning a heavy crank to lift the anchor into the boat. The chain creaked noisily and he grunted with the effort of the job, sweat beading on his face in the sun. After a few moments, the heavy anchor was lifted, and he began the task of unfurling the sails, great white squares of cloth that filled with the breeze almost immediately. The small but sturdy boat bounced on the water a few times, causing its less experienced passengers to grip tightly to the walls. The boatman laughed gleefully, however, and settled himself in behind the wheel of the boat.

Hikari began to feel a little nauseous, which concerned her as they had barely begun to move. "How long do you expect this will take?" she called over the sailor's joyous laughter.

"Hard to say," he answered. A strong breeze caught the sail just then, filling it and propelling them forward at a quick speed. The sailor seemed to be most thrilled at the motion. Hikari felt her stomach leap in circles. Salt water splashed the sides of the boat as they bounced through the waves.

"If we get a good strong wind the whole way, we might well get there in two days. Fastest trip I've ever made was leaving in early morning and arriving just before dawn the next day, but that was with a good strong breeze in the right direction and no storms to disrupt me. Longest trip was nearly a week – four days straight with barely a light breeze and then a monster of a storm two nights in a row. Most trips take about two and a half days, but it's all luck, really."

Hikari glanced toward Miyako, on the other side of the boat, with a somewhat hopeful expression. Miyako certainly had enough power over the wind to create a speedy journey, and that would certainly lessen the feeling of seasickness. But the young mage didn't seem to have heard the previous conversation. She was peering out over the water in front of them, which seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see.

The shoreline behind them was becoming smaller and smaller, the Rusty Plate Inn looking no larger than a small hut now.

* * *

Sometime near nightfall, the stars beginning to appear in the sky, Takeru and Shijo returned to the palace. Takeru had coaxed Pegasmon to fly them as far as a village halfway between them and the palace (thus cutting out a considerable part of their journey) where they had rented the use of a small cart, though not a driver, and two sturdy and reliable Monochromon. They had little to carry, but the prospect of traveling the rest of the way on foot was not a welcome one so far as Takeru was concerned, and Shijo was pleased to be relieved of a long walk. 

Though he was exhausted, Takeru sought out first Taichi, to tell him of Hikari's plans, and then Momoe, Miyako's sister, to see that she was well, and to tell her that Miyako would not be coming directly home as planned. Shijo went to his brother, who had taken up a room in the hall that housed the other mages and was already surrounded by tall piles of thick, heavy books.

"It's all so interesting!" Maigo told his older brother with an eager grin on his face. "There's so much to learn!"

"So you're glad you've come then?" Shijo asked. He took a book from the pile and glanced at the page that he opened to. The first word was "Your." The second word was "Aura." The rest of the page was mostly incomprehensible to him, full of magical words and advice. He shut the book and set it down before it threatened to give him a headache.

The room was small with not much more than a bed and a desk to work at. Any available floor space had been taken up by the books. Feeling tired, Shijo sat on the bed.

"Glad? Yes!" Maigo answered. "Beyond glad! Thrilled! And you? Did you see the Princess? Did you give it to her?"

"I did," he said, yawning. "And I did, and then the person that the digivice belongs to appeared." He frowned in thought and leaned back on the bed and shut his eyes half-way.

"Really? That's great!"

"I suppose," Shijo said, yawning again and shutting his eyes the rest of the way. "Except that…" he yawned again "…this monster attacked and then the carriage caught fire. And then…" another yawn "…there was a battle…."

"A battle?" Maigo echoed. "Wow!"

Shijo opened one eye, amused by his brother's excitement, then yawned and shut it again. "Yeah. And then the spell broke, but it didn't, really. And then it rained."

"The spell broke but it didn't?" Maigo repeated. "What's that mean?"

The answer would have to wait until morning, for Shijo had fallen asleep.

* * *

"You're right," Yamato told his brother as he splashed cool water on his face. "Someone ought to tell Jun. Maybe you, since you know what's happened and where he's gone." 

The younger brother sighed, letting the water drip from his nose and eyelashes back into the basin. "I believe I once saw Jun when she was angry," he said, blinking his eyes. "I'm not sure I really want that again."

"Why should she be angry with you?" the other returned, but he was frowning. "It isn't as though you're the one who enslaved him."

Takeru rubbed his face with a towel, laughing to himself. "No, but as that person is not currently available and I would be…." He sighed, setting the towel aside and rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. "She thought – thinks – he might well be dead, and yet, instead of me returning to tell her that he is, in fact, alive, and here he is, I tell her that he is alive, but traveling out to sea. You know Jun. Tell me how she will likely react to that?"

Yamato hesitated, shrugged. "She will want to know why he has not come immediately home and why he allowed her to think that he was, or at least could have been dead for so long."

"Yes," Takeru said, walking past his brother from the small washroom into the sitting room where he could collapse into a comfortable chair and relax. "So I explain that he has not come immediately home because…because he is enspelled and the best way to break that spell is to travel out to sea."

"Out to sea?" Yamato echoed. "She will want to know what sort of help might he get out to sea that he cannot get here, and why could he not have at least sent a note before he left? Or traveled home to inform her that he was well. Especially after she traveled to seek him out."

Sighing again, Takeru contemplated the ceiling for a few moments before he spoke. "See, I'm not sure how much of him is left."

"Definitely don't say that," Yamato advised, turning to glance out the window, his eyes having caught sight of a distant candle light in the gardens below.

"He's been under a spell for a few weeks now," the younger brother continued, "a spell that, from what I can tell, takes away one's identity _and_ free will."

"And you think this might cause him to forget something?"

"Maybe. There's no way to know, until the spell is removed. If it can be."

There was a few moments of silence. Takeru contemplated the ceiling, yawning more and more frequently. Patamon slept soundly on the arm of a sofa. Yamato watched the candlelight dance in the garden below, wondering at the source of it.

"All the same, I think it's best if you go to Jun. Explain it, as best you can, from the beginning. She'll want to hear it from someone who was there, anyway," he said, finally. The light in the garden extinguished itself, and he turned away from the window.

"I know you're right," Takeru said. "I suppose I'll go tomorrow." He yawned, his mouth stretching wide open.

* * *

The night on the waters of the sea passed peacefully, a brilliant red-orange sunset slowly fading to darker colors before being replaced by thousands of glowing stars. The passengers slowly drifted to sleep in the warm night air, lulled by the gentle rolling of the waves. 

It was still dark when Miyako awoke, feeling a cold breeze and a splash of salt water against her skin. She squinted in the inky darkness of the night and struggled for a moment with disorientation. The boat moved up and down with increasing frequency.

There was a single pinprick of light coming from the opposite side of the deck – a lantern that the boatman had lit before he himself had fallen to sleep near the wheel. It was resting on the seat, rocking back and forth in the waves, but the boatman had awakened and taken the wheel.

"Doesn't seem like much now," he said when Miyako had come close enough that he could see her clearly. "But this sort of thing might easily become a hell of a storm in a half a second or less."

"Do you think - ?" Miyako was about to ask, but was interrupted by the sound of a large wave suddenly crashing into the side of the boat.

"Damn," muttered the sailor, just loud enough to be heard. Shouting, "Take the wheel!" he rushed toward the front of the boat.

"I don't know the first thing about boats! I've never before been on the water!" Miyako called after him.

He turned back, briefly, shouting: "Just trust the magic! You know something about the wind, don't you?"

"Not that much," sighed the young mage, taking hold of the wooden wheel, which was now rapidly spinning out of control. She gripped it with both hands and tried her best to stop it from spinning, but it didn't seem to be working, and from the slightly higher vantage point of this side of the boat, she could see that waves were building and crashing into the sides of the craft with increasing frequency now.

Hikari had awakened, and was instinctively making her way toward the center of the boat, but the waves crashed over the edge and were managing to soak her nonetheless. She gripped hold of the center mast just as the boat titled sharply to the side, sending everything that wasn't bolted down to the opposite end. Another wave crashed over the edge, soaking the wooden floor of the tiny craft.

She'd gripped tightly hold of Daisuke, but as the boat lurched in the opposite direction, the water loosened her grasp on his hand, and he slid toward the edge just as another wave splashed over the side, drenching him from head to toe. "Come back here!" she shouted, and he was trying to do just that, but the boat kept lurching, and he couldn't easily stand on the wet floor.

The boatman had managed to reach the center mast of the boat. He wrapped most of his body around the thick wooden post and hugged it with his right arm. With his left, he held up a hand and unleashed the magic that he knew, halting the largest wave yet just as it was about to crash over the edge of the boat.

Tailmon climbed up the side of the mast and dug her sharp claws into the wood. "Hikari!" she called just as the rain began to fall from the sky in sheets of droplets. "Hold on to me!"

"Hang on!" Hikari called, taking her partner's free paw in one hand and stepping away from the mast, reaching for Daisuke, who was trying unsuccessfully to gain footing on the drenched wood.

Miyako had taken hold of the wheel and was trying her best to hold on to it, but she was afraid to release her hold on her partner, who would likely be blown away in the strong winds and rain. She was beginning to feel not a little bit queasy.

"Can't you do something?" Hawkmon asked her, having to shout over the crashing waves even though he was only a short distance from her ears. "With the wind?"

"I can try," she answered hesitantly. A wave crashed into the boat from behind, jolting her forward and causing her to completely lose her grip on the wheel and fall to the ground. The boat titled and she slid downward at an alarming rate of speed toward the ocean below.

Miyako stopped all the thought as best she could, knowing that her likely best hope of survival would be to use her magic, to gain control of the wind and use it to propel the boat through the violent waters. It was not easy to do so, however, while she was sliding across the slick wet surface of the deck.

The wind was screaming in her ears, and she tried to remember what she knew about the wind spell. The first time she had cast the wind spell, in the frozen forest, on solid ground, with no threat of seasickness, likely a week's journey from this place in the middle of the water. She shut her eyes, trying to remember the words she had seen in the book of magic, trying to remember the way the magic had felt when she had cast the spell just the day before.

When she had regained the memory, the magic came easily, flowing through her body and escaping through hands and mingling with the air around her.

The wind stopped. The waves continued to bash against the side of the boat and rock the craft from side to side in the choppy waters, and the rain continued to pour, but the wind had stopped and Hikari had taken hold of Daisuke once more and pulled him toward the central mast, where she and the sailor clutched tightly to the massive wooden post and Tailmon had her claws dug into the wood. Hikari became aware of the lack of wind and she turned toward the back of the boat.

She was clutching the wheel tightly and her eyes were shut just as tightly, and something about the expression on her face told all that she was concentrating on something very strongly. Then, she opened her eyes, and even across the boat Hikari could sense, could see, that she had taken hold of the wind.

And then the sail above them filled with the wind, billowing fully. The boat lurched forward and then sped onward at a rapid rate of speed. The sailor laughed triumphantly.

"I knew it!" he shouted over the sound of the rain and the wind roaring in their ears. "She said she wasn't much of a mage, but look at that! Look at it! She's a hell of a mage." He remembered himself suddenly and added, "Beg pardon, majesty."

Hikari grinned. "She is indeed."

* * *

"I'm going to regret this, you know," Takeru told his partner from the safety of their carriage. "I'm going to very much regret this, likely from the second Jun sets eyes on me."

"Maybe," Patamon agreed. "You'd regret it more if you said nothing, though, I think."

Takeru sighed. "You're right, of course."

The carriage stopped, the door was pulled open, and Jun Motomiya herself appeared, a concerned sort of expression on her face. Takeru shivered.

"Much as I'm pleased to see you, Takeru, it's not often you come here on social occasions just for me," Jun told him, stepping aside to give him room to exit the carriage. "I hope you bring news."

Takeru hesitated briefly before he stepped down. "I do. Not all good, not all bad."

A frown appeared. "I see," she said, sighing. She turned to walk inside, and he followed. "I told him…I warned him, you know. I was afraid it would end like this." She paused when they reached the door. A servant opened the door and she resumed her steps. "I've already lost my mother. I told him I didn't want to lose another…."

"I'm sure he knows," Takeru said, trying his best to be comforting. He sighed, watching the pattern of the carpet below his feet as he walked.

There was silence for a few moments when they reached a small sitting room. There were dark blue carpets and dark green drapes and a few dark brown couches. Some bookshelves lined the walls, and over the fireplace was a portrait of some deceased relative that Takeru couldn't identify.

"Some tea, I think," Jun said, and he nodded politely before sinking into a couch. Only when the servant had left to fetch the drink did she take a seat on the couch opposite him, a small table now between them.

"You say he knows," she said. "You speak of him as though he lives."

"He does," Takeru said forcefully, trying to convince himself as much as Jun. If she sensed any sort of hesitation, she might not be convinced. It would be best, he thought, to not have her organize some sort of memorial for her brother who was still living.

She looked at him closely as though trying to determine if it was wise to believe him. "Have you seen him?"

"I have."

"Did Hikari send you?"

He shook his head. "No. Hikari is at least three days journey from here, on a boat in the middle of the sea. I did tell her I was coming here, though."

Jun opened her mouth to speak, then shut it as the servant entered with a tray of tea. Something about the way in which Jun seemed completely oblivious to this action convinced him to simply set the tray down on the low table between them and then quickly leave.

"It's sort of a long story, Jun," Takeru said before she could interrupt. "He lives. I have seen him with my own eyes."

"And he is where now? If he lives, why is he not here? Why does he not return home to tell me that he lives? Where is he? What are you not telling me?"

"He is with Hikari," he answered.

Jun was silent a moment. "On a boat in the middle of the sea?"

"As I said, it is a long story. I will tell you, and you must trust me that what I'm saying is true, because it is."

She stood, a thoughtful expression appearing on her face, and turned away. She was silent a long while, and Takeru poured two cups of tea while he waited. Without any particular destination in mind, she wandered about the room, seeing nothing. It seemed an interminably long time before she nodded, taking the tea he had poured and sitting once more. "All right," she said, after she had taken a sip and set the delicate cup down once more. "Tell me all you can."

* * *

Two days more passed on the water before they caught sight of land in the early morning. Hikari shook Miyako awake; she had been sleeping quite a bit the last few days as she often did after casting a powerful spell. 

"Is that the place up ahead?" Hawkmon wanted to know, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he awoke. He spread his wings and perched atop the mast where he could see more clearly.

"It is indeed!" the boatman answered from his spot by the wheel. "Not a bad journey, all in all." He was gleeful, laughing cheerfully, and seemed full of energy, even while his partner Betamon dozed behind him.

It was only a dim spot of green on the horizon, but it grew to be an even larger spot of green the closer they came, and then trees and rocks came into focus. Shortly after noon they were within sight of the docks and the small cove through which island visitors entered. They couldn't see people from the docks, only trees, and a great cover of them.

"How will we know where to go?" Hikari wanted to know. "I don't see any people. Didn't you say this island is populated?"

"Don't worry," called the boatman as he turned the wheel sharply so that he could enter the cove. "They'll know when you've arrived."

"I see someone," Hawkmon reported from his vantage point. "Just one woman, coming down a path from the trees toward the docks."

By the time the sailor had lowered the anchor in the waters of the small harbor, the woman had reached the edge of the dock. She was elderly, her gray hair streaked with white, but she seemed not to lack energy, and she looked pleasant and cheerful. She wore a white skirt and a soft brown cloak that covered the rest of her and protected against the strong ocean breezes, but she did not wear the hood, and her hair danced in the wind.

"Welcome," the woman called to them as they made their way across the wooden dock, the boards creaking beneath their feet. The waves splashed gently against the beach beyond them and the wind rustled in the trees. All felt peaceful. "Welcome to the Sanctuary of Magic. We've been expecting you." She bowed in greeting.

Had this not been an island full of magic, this statement might have caused much more surprise than it did. There was a long silence, the visitors taking in the sights while the woman waited patiently.

"I -," Hikari began. "I am glad to have made it. I hope you can help us."

The woman's calm smile didn't fade. She nodded. "I hope we can, as well, your majesty. Come. I'm sure your journey has left you tired and hungry. Some more tired than others." With this last statement, she glanced toward Miyako, who had unsuccessfully tried to suppress a yawn, a knowing sort of smile appearing now.

"My name is Akiko. Please, follow me. We will find you something to eat, and something to help you regain your energy. I am sure you have many questions, much to ask, much to learn. Don't hesitate to ask."

* * *

Progress! More to come soon! 


	20. Spring Battles

**Enter The Light**

**Part Twenty: **Spring Battles

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie: **plot mine, characters not mine. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to moo. Moo!

* * *

The day was warm and sunny, the spring weather helping the trees and flowers and grasses to bloom and the world to become beautiful again. Not far from the palace yet beyond the village, Mimi sat on a smooth stone in the midst of a field that would soon be filled with beautiful yellow flowers. She leaned back, breathing in the clean air, feeling the sun on her face, sighing with the sort of pleasure she felt was only possible to experience in nature. 

"I thought that summer would _never_ arrive," she breathed. The sky above her was a beautiful bright blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds that slowly floated along.

"It's not summer yet," Sora told her. "Only spring. Still, it's a welcome relief after winter." A shadow fell past her face and she looked up to see that Piyomon was enjoying the warm breezes as well.

Mimi stood, brushing dust from her skirt, a pale green, light fabric that easily dirtied. She glanced toward her own partner and saw that Palmon was lying in the grass a few steps away, mingling with the soil, enjoying the sun as much as Mimi. "And quiet," she added. "Peaceful and quiet."

Sora frowned, heading toward the grove of trees some distance away. They had come to enjoy the outdoors, but they had planned to seek out a few herbs for the medical supplies, or perhaps a few that might simply work as spices in foods.

"Oh dear," Mimi said suddenly, following. "I've ruined it now, haven't I? I shouldn't have said that. Now we're certain to have something attack us soon. Maybe today." She paused in her steps, glancing back toward the palace, visible from the field. "Maybe we ought to return. Perhaps it's not safe."

"Mimi," Sora interrupted, patiently, already quite a few steps ahead. "I'm sure everything will be fine. There's nothing to worry about. All right?"

After a moment, Mimi followed, but continuing where she had left off. "Still, I don't think we're finished, do you? Gennai told me there would be many enemies to fight. I wonder if I ought to go seek him out again. Maybe he'd have more advice."

Sighing, Sora shook her head. "No, I doubt we're finished fighting. I've begun to wonder if we'll ever be finished."

There was quiet as Mimi contemplated this for a bit and they entered the small grove of trees, seeking out herbs among the roots. The leaves of the tall trees cast patterns of shadows on the ground, and a few blossoms fell from the high branches to float in the air and settle at their feet.

Suddenly, the quiet was torn violently away as the tops of the trees were suddenly ripped off and an explosion just behind them caused both to run for cover.

The sound of vicious, rather cruel sounding laughter could be heard from somewhere beyond the dust and dirt that was thrown up into the air. Sora hadn't waited for further provocation, and Piyomon had already evolved even before Mimi had managed to pull herself up from the dirt, coughing.

"Are you all right?" Sora asked, helping her to her feet.

"I think so. What was that?"

Sora shook her head. "I'm not sure." She glanced upwards, toward the sky. "Can you see anything?" she called to her partner, but no response could be heard because just then another explosion sounded, and they were both thrown backwards once more, landing some distance behind where they had once stood.

"Cowards!" called the voice that had laughed. "Come and face me! Face your doom!" It dissolved once again into laughter, and the sound of many mini-explosions could be heard all around them.

"Palmon evolve!" Mimi heard her partner cry out from somewhere in the midst of the smoke, and the large, green shape emerged from the dust. "Togemon!"

"Do something about this dust!" Sora called, and Birdramon flapped her wings, sending the covering in the other direction. The laughter that had been echoing all around them faded into coughing. A tall, thin, human-like shape appeared, becoming clearer as the dust was blown away by the large bird's wings. It was wrapped entirely in bandages, only the eyes and mouth of the face visible, and the gray tips of its fingers, which were clutching some sort of a device that had been firing off the mini explosions.

"Ew!" Mimi said, failing to repress a shudder. "How hideous."

The creature, whatever it was, coughed a few times more before righting itself. "You'll regret that!" he shouted, and began firing again, causing a few trees to catch fire and a few mini dust clouds to appear as the missiles hit the ground.

"I don't think so!" Togemon shouted, running forward with one fist prepared to strike. She was immediately thrown back, however, when a few of the missiles crashed into her.

"Meteor Wing!" Birdramon shouted, sending her own shower of flames down from the sky. The enemy creature shouted in alarm and began to run around wildly, narrowly dodging the flames.

"Ha-ha!" he shouted as he danced, his long legs flailing below him. "Not so easy as I've thought! Ha-ha! Try these on, eh?" He laughed even harder. The air shimmered behind him and a battalion of small, walking mushrooms appeared.

"Oh, great," Sora muttered. She grabbed Mimi by the hand and ran backwards, hopefully out of the range of the Mushmon.

"Poison Smash!" shouted a dozen or so Mushmon in unison, and immediately a wave of small mushrooms sailed through the air, hitting the ground and releasing a cloud of green smoke.

"Poison?" Mimi gasped. "Oh..."

"Meteor Wing!" Birdramon shouted again, divining low to the ground and managing to set a few of the mushroom digimon on fire, and trap a few others behind a wall of flames.

"Prickly Bang Bang!" shouted Togemon, and a shower of needles flew into the crowd of Mushmon, causing a few of them to shout in alarm or pain. A few that were unlucky enough to be both on fire as well as stung deleted, but most remained, and continued to throw small mushrooms beyond the fire.

"We could use a bit of help," Mimi noted, her voice raising a few octaves as she spoke.

Sora looked toward the palace, but there was no sign that any one there planned to come to the rescue. "Looks like we're on our own," she told Mimi. "I don't think anyone is looking out the window right now."

"Who's that?" the other questioned then, pointing toward the sky. Sora looked up in time to see a shadow pass over the sun, and then a giant green bug flew into the midst of the battle. They could see few details beyond the green poison smoke, but they could hear the sounds of Mushmon screaming, and a few of the mushrooms soared through the air.

"I don't know," Sora said. "I've never seen him before…. And where's that crazy tall skinny one that was shooting at us?"

Mimi squinted through the dust, but saw no sign of the bandaged-covered digimon. "Looks like he left," she noted, frowning. She sniffed in disdain. "And he called us cowards. He left!"

"Well, he was winning…," Sora pointed out, but she too was frowning. "I don't understand."

"Fox Fire!" shouted a new voice just then, and they could see blue flames beyond the green smoke, and a wolf-like digimon with blue and white striped fur had entered the fray. A few steps behind him came Yamato, breathless and sweating, one arm thrown over his face to avoid breathing the poison of the Mushmon.

"Yamato!" Mimi called, cheered by the presence of the newcomer. She waved to him and he came, stumbling slightly over the grass, and collapsed near them, breathing the untainted air heavily.

"Are you both all right?" he asked after a few minutes of panting.

"We're better off than you," Mimi told him. "About time someone arrived!"

Yamato glared for a brief second, then pulled himself to his feet again. "They picked a good time to attack," he told them, explaining that nearly all of the castle's inhabitants (and all of the present Chosen) had been outside at the time, enjoying the spring weather, and he had only noticed the fight when he had returned inside for a fresh shirt. Indeed the shirt he wore now bore the stains of grass on it.

"But what do _Mushmon_ want?" he wondered. "And why do they attack so near the castle?"

"They're not acting alone," Sora answered. "They were brought here by some sort of digimon dressed in bandages."

"Not the same - !"

"Seems it. Takeru hasn't returned yet?"

He frowned, shaking his head. "No, but this one sounds very similar to the one that attacked near the coast. I wouldn't be surprised if it were the same. I hope Koushiro has some idea of what this creature is and what he might want."

Mimi shivered despite the warmth of the sun. "So do I," she said. "Oh, hey! Look! We've won!"

Indeed they had, for there was no further sign of Mushmon and the green poison smoke was fading. Having de-evolved, their partners were flying back to join them.

"Who - ?" Yamato began to ask, but before he could even finish his sentence, the green bug-like digimon had again taken to the air and was gone. He turned to face the others, questions in his eyes, but they were as uninformed as he.

* * *

Miyako awoke with the smell of salt water on the air and a gentle breeze cooling the air. For a moment she thought that she was still at sea, but then she remembered that they had landed on an island and she was now on solid ground.

She was lying on a bed carved of the tall, thin palm trees that were common on the island, and dressed in a thin white sleeping gown. The room was made of smooth stone that had been whitewashed, making the entire place feel clean and pure.

And the magic. Miyako had never sensed so much magic in one place before, for she had never been around so many mages at once. Certainly there were many at the palace, but this place was filled with spell-casters and wizards and sorcerers and the power of their magic had been used to make virtually every thing on this island. So powerful was the feeling of magic that everything seemed brighter and whiter than anywhere else, and she would not have been surprised if someone had told her that the island itself had been formed from magic.

She left her bed and crossed the room. A small table held a basin of water, which she used to wash her face and hands, and a dress made of the same thin white material as the gown she'd slept in hung from a hook on the wall. Miyako dressed, feeling at peace with the world and all around her, and then sat down on the bed once more, closed her eyes, and opened her mind to the magic around her.

* * *

"Nothing, then?" Miyako asked, a frown on her face.

Hikari did not turn from the bamboo shelf filled with books, but shook her head. "It seems he spoke the truth when he said the spells were lost," she said, and then turned, leaning back against the shelf, holding one hand to her eyes as though they were hurting her.

"There must be something - ."

"If there is, it's not here." Hikari sighed, crossing the small room and sitting in a chair made of bamboo and lined with cushions. It was most comfortable, and she sank into it with an exhaustion of one who has spent hours searching through books. Miyako knew, for she had often seen Koushiro with a similar expression. Still, on Hikari's face it seemed to be more than a simple failure to find knowledge.

"We shouldn't give up hope," Miyako said. "If there is a way to break the spell, then it will be found here. If there was once a spell, then there can be a new spell. If nothing else, we can be glad he lives, right?"

Hikari was quiet and Miyako could see by her expression that her thoughts were wandering down a dark path. "It's not much of a life, is it?"

She had turned her gaze now out the window, toward the ocean just beyond, where the subject of their discussion was sitting, looking out at the waters. A few of the younger mages were sitting with him, peering out at the sparkling waves.

"Your friend has wisdom beyond her years," said a voice, and they both turned to see that the woman who had greeted them, Akiko, was standing in the doorway, the curtain pushed back. "Forgive me for intruding."

"What do you mean?" Hikari asked.

"She is indeed correct," the woman said. "If the spell once existed, then it can be made again, though this is a harder task than simply using one which was already made."

"So you mean a new spell must be made…?"

"Yes," Akiko answered, nodding. "It will not be easy. It will require much effort and skill. I believe the task will be easier for you, however, because you know his true self."

Hikari shook her head. "I've never even _cast_ a spell," she pointed out. "How am I to make one of my own?"

* * *

Taichi had been quiet since the ending of the battle, though Sora noticed him glancing sideways at her several times during the evening, a vaguely concerned sort of expression in his eyes. When she looked back at him, he held her gaze a moment, and then turned away.

When dinner had ended and the rest of the castle's inhabitants had drifted off to their bedrooms or to other evening activities, Sora tapped lightly on the young king's door.

He was out on the balcony beyond his window, leaning against the railing, looking up at the stars overhead, not seeming to have heard her come in. Sora looked up at the sky, following his gaze, but saw nothing of unusual interest. The stars were beautiful, as always.

"No sign of rain," Taichi said, still staring upwards. "Not a cloud in the sky. Every star visible. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"I've never known you to be much interested in the stars," Sora answered, her eyes focused on a fixed point of light some distance out on the horizon. For a few moments, there was silence, and then she turned to face him. "What's truly on your mind? You've been quiet all night."

He turned his head from the sky and now faced the stones of the balcony, frowning as though in careful consideration of one of them. "You," he said, his voice so quiet that it was barely above a whisper.

This wasn't anything near to the answer that Sora had been expecting, and so she had nothing to say, and simply stared blankly at him while he continued to examine the floor below. After a long pause in which he didn't seem willing to explain this answer, she said: "Me?"

There was another long silence, broken by the sound of a few musicians in a room below them beginning to practice. Sora listened to the gentle notes as they distracted her from the current situation, and led her memories back through parties and balls where similar music had been played.

"Sora," he said then, finally pulling his eyes away from his feet and looking in her direction. "I'm glad you're all right."

"I…," she began, but faltered, feeling her cheeks grow warm. She suddenly felt the floor near her toes to be most interesting, and wondered from where this sudden shyness came. "Thank you…." she said softly, feeling as though she ought to say something.

"I'm sorry," he said, speaking quickly as though afraid she might run off before he'd finished his thoughts. "I feel as though I should have gone with you. I should have been the one to help you. Not as though you needed me…I suppose you didn't…but…." He trailed off.

A few notes drifted through the air. A warm breeze came across the balcony, causing the hem of Sora's skirt to dance lightly over the stones.

"I understand," she said.

There was a long silence, the music growing louder and the melody clearer. Taichi stepped forward, holding out a hand and she looked up. "There…_is_ music," he said, a sly grin appearing.

She couldn't help but smile in return. "So there is," she said, placing her hand in his palm.

* * *

The air was warm and the breeze comforting. Takeru felt tired but accomplished when Pegasmon set down just outside the palace gates. It was dusk, nearly dark, and he was tired. He waited a moment for Patamon to take his perch on his head, and then started toward the entrance, feeling tired.

Briefly, Takeru thought he saw a dark shadow moving in the corner of his eye, and he turned, sharply, but there was nothing on the path behind him but a few soldiers engaged in casual conversation. Again, he thought he saw something move, but when he turned, there was nothing suspicious.

"I'm tired," he told himself. "Just tired."

"Tired, or crazy?" Patamon returned cheekily, causing his partner to frown.

"Both maybe," he admitted after a moment, yawning. He was looking forward to nothing more than falling into the warm comfort of a bed, and he was hoping that he'd make it to his bedroom without too many interruptions.

The entrance hall was quiet, empty of all, even servants. Taking care to make as little noise as possible, he slipped through several unused hallways and up staircases that were used less often than others until he had reached the corridor his room was in.

The bed-chamber was quiet and dark, no fire nor candles lit in preparation for his arrival, but Takeru did not much mind. He removed his boots which had begun to suffocate his feet, and sat down in a chair near the window, where the dim light of the stars peeked through the curtains.

"It's cold," Patamon commented, having settled into a comfortable perch on the back of the chair. He shivered.

Takeru yawned and rubbed his arms with his hands. "I'll light the fire," he grumbled, and took a candle from the nightstand and went into the sitting room next door.

The fire in there was warm and welcoming, and he stood by it, warming himself by the light of it for a few minutes before he lit the candle in its flames. He turned back toward his room and had nearly reached the door when another door on the opposite side of the room opened and Yamato entered.

"Just returned?" the elder brother questioned, leaning in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. He had already changed into his nightclothes, but he did not look nearly as tired as Takeru felt.

"Yes," Takeru answered, trying to make his voice sound as exhausted as he felt. He entered his room but did not shut the door, and used the candle to light the fire.

"There was an interesting thing that happened today," Yamato told him, a forced sort of casualness to his voice that suggested strongly to Takeru that it was more than simply interesting.

The fire now burning brightly in the fireplace, Takeru set the candle atop the mantle and sank onto the bed. He yawned once and then, when Yamato had said nothing more, he wearily asked, "What was that?"

* * *

The walls were a drab stone gray, the light minimal, the room tiny. The door was a heavy wooden slab that creaked open on its ancient iron hinges with a loud screech. A tall figure dressed in a black robe, features entirely obscured, appeared in the doorframe. It was an imposing figure despite his anonymity, the lack of visible eyes not failing to express a sense of controlled rage.

He was quiet, having made himself as invisible in the darkness at the back of the tiny space, but the dark figure knew he was there, he had ordered him there. No words were exchanged, but the orders were clear, and he followed his master from the tiny space, down the sparsely lit hall. There was no sound but his own shuffling feet.

"She is here," said the dark figure then, his voice deep, the sound of it familiar some how. The words struck a chord of memory, of fear and concern – emotions he had not felt since he'd entered this dark and dismal place. For a moment, he forgot his place and thought to speak, but there was instantly a sharp pressure upon his throat, and he fell silent again, knowing that fighting the spell would only exhaust him, and accomplish nothing.

It must be, he thought, some way of tormenting him, of reminding him that he was helpless, that he could not aid her in any way, that he must only watch an unspeakable horror. As though sensing his private thoughts, however, the dark figure stopped shortly. "I did not wish her to be involved, though I know it is inevitable."

His master must have sensed his disbelief of this statement, for he whirled around sharply to face him, the faceless void of darkness beneath his hood once more glaring without eyes. "I don't have a choice in the matter, however," he stated, and then turned again and headed down the hall, heels sharply clicking on the stone floor beneath the long black robe. After a moment, he followed, taking quick steps to catch up.

At the end of the long hall was a room with another heavy door, and the dark figure opened it and went inside. Sensing his master's wishes, he did not follow, but instead stood motionless and silent beside the door until his master had reappeared, carrying a heavy bucket filled with water. Again knowing orders without being spoken, he took the bucket and turned away.

"You don't believe me, do you?" the dark figure questioned from the doorway of the room, and he stopped. There was the sound of a deep chuckle from behind the dark robes, and he said: "Perhaps one day I'll explain myself to you."

The walls were a pale white save one that was a smoky blue. The light from the rising sun filled the room, bathing everything in a warm golden hue. He awoke to find himself lying on a soft mat on the floor, eyes pointed at the ceiling, which was the same pale white as the walls.

"Nothing?" said a woman's voice, striking a chord of memory in his mind. He turned his head toward the voice and saw her, standing before a wide window, framed in the light of the early morning sun. Her hair was long, her expression, concerned.

"No," said another voice, this one belonging to his mistress, yet sounding another chord of memory. Her voice was sad, but also tired-sounding. He turned his head toward the voice, and saw her, an expression of disappointment on her face, her eyes distant, looking out at the ocean beyond the windows, seeing nothing.

"It was a distant possibility at best," said a third female voice, this one unrecognizable to him, and so he didn't bother to turn to face her. "Still, this spell has done something, even if it did not set him free."

"Has it?" said the first voice, sounding so surprised that he turned again to face her and saw that she had squinted her eyes toward him. "It seems all the same…."

"It has," said his mistress, still peering out the window without seeing anything. "He…feels different…but I'm not sure how…." She turned her head to face him and studied his face for a few moments. Neither of the others said anything, and it was at that moment that he remembered her clearly. Not as his mistress, but from _before_. It was but a fleeting memory…the realization that the recognition he felt was not a recent one. Then it was gone, but the unmistakable realization that he had known her _before_ remained with him.

"I daresay his memories are returning," said the woman he did not know, and he then turned to her for the first time, to see who it was that had reflected his inner truth so accurately. She had very long hair, and bright blue eyes, and a certain sort of air about her that made her words sound knowledgeable and wise. "This is important," she added, noting that he was now watching her for the first time and returning his gaze. "Without his memories, he cannot regain his true self, and without the true self, freedom becomes impossible."

There was silence, and he turned back to face his mistress. She was now looking at him with a similar expression. "I see…yes. I feel it. I…it feels as though part…part of his mind awakened that was not before."

"He lost his memories?" the other woman in the room questioned, a tone of surprise in her voice. "Is that part of the spell that binds him, or was that a different spell intertwined?"

"I suspect it is part of the spell of enslavement, though it is impossible to know for certain. I healed his mind, and yet part of his mind is unreachable – I would guess beyond the bindings of the spell. Healing magic is often unsuccessful in healing the mind."

"No," his mistress said then, still not having taken her eyes from his own. "They are not gone. They are not lost. They are hidden away from him and he cannot reach them. I believe…I am certain that when I have freed him, they will return to him."

* * *

Iori sheathed his sword, hearing the satisfying sound of metal sliding in place, and wiped his face with the cloth at the edge of the room. The sky beyond was lit with the stars, but otherwise dark, and a light breeze rustled the curtains. He stood near the open window, allowing the wind to evaporate the sweat on his forehead. The night felt peaceful, and calm. Armadimon snored lightly in the corner on a pile of spare mats.

There was a light tap on the door and a small boy burst in, a few drops of sweat appearing on his face. A small Piyomon had followed him, which surprised Iori as he knew the boy and knew that his partner was not a Piyomon.

"Thank heavens I've found you," the boy said, clearly out of breath. "Sir. This Piyomon has just arrived from the north. There's been some sort of attack in a village called Little Mountain, near Tachikawa."

"Thirty two dead, at last count," the Piyomon reported. "Countless injured."

"How long ago was this last count?" Iori questioned.

"I left three hours ago," the Piyomon answered. "The damage was assessed right before I left."

Iori nodded, turning toward the boy. "Awake the other Chosen, if they sleep. Assemble them all in the throne hall. I'll go and alert the king."

"Yes sir," the boy answered, bowing sharply and turning to leave, the Piyomon following behind him. Iori sighed, forced back a yawn, and poked Armadimon to awaken him.

"Come on. There's work to be done."

* * *

I'm actually pretty happy with the way this is going, and I've gotten a lot of writing done recently , so expect another update before the end of this month. I wasn't going to put in a section from Daisuke's point of view, but now I'm glad that I did, because I don't think it came out too badly, and I think I kept everyone in suspense about him long enough. . ;;

That being said, writing continues. Hope you're enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing! Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	21. Love, Memories, Evil

**Enter the Light**

**Part Twenty-One: **Love, Memories, Evil

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie: **Characters, not mine. Plot, mine. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to Moo. Or else.

Moo!

* * *

The breeze was cool but not cold, breaking up the air which was warm but not hot. Sora felt at peace for the first time in a while. The music gently floated up from below them and the stars slowly grew brighter in the dark night sky.

If it had lasted forever, it would have been too short, but it was far less time than forever spent in each other's arms. The music faded, but they did not separate – in fact grew closer.

And then there was a knock on the door, waking her from her dreamlike state, and she was aware of the cruel reality again. The night air on the open veranda was suddenly colder than she remembered.

"No," Taichi said, his voice sounding sleepy. "Let them knock. They'll go away soon enough."

"It's likely important," she disagreed, and he sighed as though coming awake. He pulled away from her, rubbing his eyes.

"It's only Iori," he said, having opened the door, and it was Iori, but he had a serious expression on his face. "Whatever it is, I don't want to know."

"I'd rather I didn't know either," Iori answered, and Sora could see sweat beaded on his forehead and his practice sword still at his belt. "A messenger Piyomon has just arrived from the North. A village near Tachikawa has been attacked."

"Attacked?" Taichi echoed, frowning, picking up a jacket from the back of a chair, discarded hours before. "Attacked by what?"

"I'm not sure," Iori confessed. "I haven't heard the whole of the report. The Piyomon reports thirty two dead at last count, taken nearly three hours ago."

"Dead?" Sora echoed. "What's killed them?"

* * *

"The attack was over by the time his lordship's people had arrived," the Piyomon reported. "The reports we have are mostly civilian eyewitnesses. I haven't got anything in writing to give you yet. All I know is that most of them reported some sort of large digimon, but none of them could identify it. A few said it was likely a Golemon, but what others described sounded like Mammothmon and still others reported Tyrannomon."

"So it's likely more than one attacker," Yamato noted. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest, still dressed in his night clothes, a dark blue robe tied around his waist.

"That's what it seems so far," the Piyomon agreed, nodding. "We couldn't get an accurate assessment of damage to the village because it was nearly dark. I expect they'll send another messenger after dawn breaks, when they can clearly see what's happened."

"I think it's wise to send out medics and doctors as soon as it's light," Jyou advised. He, too, had been ready for bed when the news had arrived, and was now dressed in a long black robe. He pushed his glasses up on to his nose and glanced toward Gomamon. "How many, do you think?"

"My father knew of at least a dozen doctors in the village," Mimi said, a distant look on her face as though she was seeing something quite some distance away. She, too, was dressed for sleep in a pale pink nightgown and a dark pink robe, but she had not tied the sash around her waist. "I cannot say if they still live, however."

There was a momentary silence.

"I should think as many as are willing to go," Gomamon said, answering his partner's question.

"I think a dozen, maximum," Jyou said, nodding. "If the reports come that the damage is much worse, we will send more tomorrow. Even if they leave at daybreak, though, it may be two days before they arrive."

"I'm going, too," Mimi interrupted before anyone else could speak.

"Mimi, are you sure…?" Sora questioned. "What if…?"

"I'm going," Mimi repeated, her eyes daring anyone to disagree with her. "It's my people, my father's land, isn't it? It's my responsibility. I'll go with your doctors, Jyou, so there'd best be space for me."

Jyou was silent a long moment, staring at her, frightened to disagree. He glanced toward Taichi, who like everyone else in the room was staring, wide eyed and surprised at Mimi's declaration. He shrugged lightly.

"As you wish, then," Jyou conceded.

"Shouldn't someone else go as well?" Takeru said when the shock had sunk in and silence had followed. The last word of this sentence was cut short when he fell into a huge yawn, however. "Just in case," he added when he'd finished yawning. "In case whatever attacked is still in the area."

Mimi grew pale, her eyes wide – she hadn't thought of that possibility. "Oh!" she gasped.

There was an uneasy silence as she glanced around the room. Takeru was saved from answering his own question by yawning widely again and sustaining it for several minutes. The others looked at their shoes or their slippers.

With a resigned sigh, Yamato folded his arms even tighter and stared fixedly at a candle on the wall nearby. "I'll go," he said, voice barely a mumble.

* * *

"No," said Koushiro, frowning from behind the pages of yet another massive and thick book. "I've no idea who you're talking about. And there's nothing about it in here." He shut the book, the sound of the thud echoing off the high stone walls of his basement room.

Takeru sat down as cautiously as possible on a rather rickety-looking stool. "Well, he does exist, I've seen him, and so did Sora and Mimi. So either we're crazy and hallucinating, or…."

"Or this book is a complete waste of time," Koushiro finished, frowning deeply at the heavy volume and then shoving it aside. "Still," he said more cheerfully now, "I've many more books to search through if you want to find him."

"Terrific," Takeru sighed, opening the nearest book and proceeding to flip through a thousand or so pages of crude drawings of common digimon – everything from Pyocomon and Nyaromon to Tentomon and Piyomon. He went through this section quickly – obviously the digimon he had seen was not a common one – and went to the considerably smaller section referring to rare digimon. Patamon, resting on his head, leaned over the edge of Takeru's forehead and peered down at the pages.

* * *

It was nearly nighttime again, the breeze feeling cooler than the day before. Sora had spent the day with Momoe, helping her to care for the newborn baby. Miyako's older sister had planned to leave within a week or so of the baby's birth, but she did not wish to return to her husband without having seen Miyako again.

Now, though, Sora stood on the veranda outside her own room, looking toward the north, toward where Mimi, Yamato, and a dozen or so physicians had left that morning, wondering if it had been wise to let Mimi go, wondering if it would have been possible to stop her.

"I don't think so," Piyomon said when she'd voiced these concerns. "Would you have stayed behind?"

She considered a moment before answering. "No. Not if I thought my mother might be in danger. Not if I thought I could help. Maybe I ought to have gone with her, too."

"I hope you won't," said a voice, and she turned to see that Taichi was leaning against the doorframe, eyebrows furrowed, a faint frown on his face.

"It's only the two of them," she told him. "Who knows what might have attacked that village? What if they can't hold it off? What if they need help, and we're two days away?"

His frown grew more pronounced as she spoke. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his right shoulder leaned against the doorframe, and studied the floor carefully before he spoke, his tone serious, his voice low. "It's a risk you take," he said. "It's a risk Mimi took," he added, before she could speak. "We can't all go there, you know that. What if it's a trap…to lure us away from here long enough to attack somewhere else?"

"What if it's not?"

Taichi sighed and rubbed the back of his head with one hand, looking up at the sky. "Then it's not," he said. "I don't think it is. I've got a hunch that whoever or whatever attacked that village near Tachikawa is long gone from there by now and we'll hear news in the next week of an attack somewhere else."

Sora was quiet a moment. "Why – who would do that? And why?"

"I think if we find the answer to one of those questions, we'll have the answer to both of them."

* * *

Hikari had been learning as quickly as it was possible to learn. She had studied endless books and she had mediated for countless hours. Miyako felt exhausted watching her, and rather tired on her own, as she had spent hours enough studying new spells herself.

The entire island seemed to be filled with working spell-casters, studying and practicing, healing and recovering. There was only one person on the island who did not practice magic, and he stood at the edge of a rocky cliff, watching the ocean, his eyes blank, but sometimes, a flash of something that was his real self, searching through his memories.

It was nearly dark, the sun sinking below the ocean in the west. Miyako could make out his dark shape against the bright sun. She climbed the rocks and reached the edge of the cliff. In silence, she stood, watching the sun skin, and when all had gone dark and she could no longer see, she lit the lantern she had carried with her and held it up.

"What have you been doing up here every day?" she asked him, holding the lantern so the fire cast light on his face.

"Watching the ocean," he said, turning to face her. Miyako squinted at him. Even in the darkness, she could see a complex network of magic that bound him – a binding of gold at his neck, as Takeru had seen – but also an intricate web of black threads that circled every bit of him, especially his head. The thought of untangling them, of trying to break them all, made her feel suddenly exhausted.

"Why?" she wondered, turning out to face the waves. "Do you look for something?"

"Something," he echoed, and then turned back toward the waves. "I don't know."

There was quiet for a moment. "Is what she said true?" Miyako said then, suddenly. "Your memories are returning?"

"Not returning, exactly…." he answered, now staring at the rocks below his feet. "I am…remembering that I have them. I don't remember them."

She was puzzled. "I don't understand. Isn't that the same?"

"No." He shook his head, and then turned to look at her. Miyako suppressed a shudder as she often did; his eyes were blank, not his own. "Slaves have no memories of _before_."

"Before you were - ."

He nodded. "I know there was a _before_, though."

Comprehension dawned, Miyako's eyes grew wide. "You know you were something else_ before_, but you don't know what?"

"I have no access to those memories. It's forbidden. I feel them, though." He was studying the ground once more now, and Miyako could understand why. There was a thin line drawn between knowing the memories existed and actually accessing them. She raised the lantern and turned.

"Come," she said, taking a step down the rocks. "Let's get off this cliff."

It was not long before they had reached the bottom, safely and without incident despite a few jagged rocks and a rather steep climb. A thought occurred to Miyako and she turned in time to see him reach the bottom a few steps behind her.

"Hikari's never told you?" she asked. He was quiet, blank eyes blinking in the light of the lantern. Miyako frowned, turned aside. "I wonder why…."

* * *

"There is news?" Sora asked, her expression concerned, her voice anxious. "Good?"

It had been two nights since Mimi and Yamato had departed, and a Piyomon had just landed, tired from the long flight, but bearing scrolls filled with written reports from the north. Sora had seen it approach from her bedroom window and had suppressed the urge to immediately go and hear what had been sent. Instead, she had remained in her room, nervously pacing the balcony, not wishing to intrude.

Taichi had reappeared in the doorway less than an hour later, leaning once more on the frame, his hair tousled and his expression weary, though not defeated. "Lord Tachikawa's report lists forty five villagers dead, at least a hundred wounded. There's been no further attacks, and no sign of the monsters originally involved."

"It's like you said, then? That they're long gone, but why? Why attack that village?"

He shook his head. "No idea. There's nothing there of value so far as we've been able to determine, and nothing nearby of value. It couldn't have been an attack on Mimi's family, they're completely unharmed. The dead is entirely the villagers and a few outlying farmers. Homes and businesses in the village were destroyed, nothing of very high value."

"Now what, then?" Sora questioned. "Wait for another attack? There's no sign of who's responsible?"

"Mimi's father suspects Golemon, but there's no definitive reports." He shrugged, sighed. "I'm hoping Yamato and Mimi can examine the evidence, sift through the eyewitnesses, see if they can piece something together. They arrived this afternoon."

"So now we just wait," Sora concluded. She sighed, turned her head to peer at the stars, leaning against the railing. The breeze was cold tonight and there was no sound of music from the lower levels. There was no sense of peace. She shivered and felt a hand on her shoulder.

"There is a purpose behind this," Taichi said. "We'll find what they want, and then we'll be able to stop them before more damage is done."

Sora turned to face him, noting a look in his eyes she had not seen before, that she could not name. He seemed certain, and yet also hesitant. "I hope so," she said, puzzling over his expression. "There's something else?"

He looked away, out toward the sky once more, but said nothing, a frown appearing on his face.

* * *

Takeru awoke in the early morning, dressed quickly, and went outside to walk amongst the gardens before breakfast. With the sun barely risen above the garden walls, he sat on a low stone wall and let his mind wander, wondering what his brother was doing, and how Yamato was enjoying his time with Mimi. He smiled at the thought of it, wondering how well the two of them would pass a week together. In the distance, he could hear shouting, but he did his best to ignore it. Instead, he laid down on the wall and looked up at the blue sky. Patamon dozed a short distance away. The sweet smell of flowers was heavy in the air, and a light breeze made the cool morning feel a bit chillier than he would have liked. He shut his eyes and felt himself falling toward sleep before long.

"Takeru!"

Someone was shouting his name from a great distance away, but Takeru did his best to ignore them. He had no desire to spend another afternoon with any of the visiting dignitaries, lords, or ladies come from all over to pay respects to the newest king. He found most of them to be boring, as they were all older than he, some even older than his parents. His mind wandering, Takeru thought of his home and the last time he had been there.

It had been some time ago that he, his brother, and both parents had all been at home at the same time, and it had happened so rarely that he had few clear memories of any such occasion at all. For much of his childhood, Takeru had been with his mother's family while his older brother had stayed at home with their father. For some reason unclear to both siblings, their parents barely got along and were much happier apart. Yamato had suspected that the marriage had been arranged by their grandparents, and their parents had never particularly liked each other to begin with, but Takeru preferred to think that they had once loved each other and tragically grown apart.

Whatever the reason, he had few clear memories of his home, several days south of the palace, and was content to spend his time in the gardens here, while his mother returned to her parents and his father tended business at home. For some reason, however, Takeru found himself thinking of that place at the moment.

Their home was built at the foot of a mountain, a great stone fortress of a house that a Lord Ishida many hundreds of years ago had used slaves to build, long before slavery had been outlawed in Yagami. There was no nearby land suitable to be farmed, and the villagers in the valleys below worked in the mines of the mountainous area. The house had been passed on through generations of their family, yet despite its age, had always been well cared for. The interior had once been cold and dark, but generations had added larger windows and huge fireplaces and many thick and beautiful tapestries. It was a beautiful place, and Takeru had always thought so, yet had never felt at home in, for he had barely lived there.

A cold breeze rustled the stems and leaves of some flowers behind him. Takeru shivered and sat up, suddenly feeling cold despite the warm sun. He looked up, searching for a shadow that might have passed the sun, yet saw none. A short distance away, Patamon snored lightly.

The sound of footsteps echoed on the stone path and a boy, barely old enough to be a palace page, stumbled into the garden, nearly falling to his knees. He picked himself up, breathing heavily, and bowed before addressing Takeru.

"My Lord," he said, pausing again to rise and then to breathe. "We've looked all over for you – your room, the kitchens, the parlors." He paused again to take a breath.

"Looking for me?" Takeru asked, sliding down off the wall and poking his partner in the stomach with one finger. Patamon blinked and sleepily opened his eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know," the boy answered. "Iori only said that the king needs to see you. Right away."

Takeru might have been imagining it, because he did not hear the leaves rustle again, yet he was certain he felt another cold breeze, and he shivered again.

* * *

Just made it before the end of the month. Yes!

I don't know when this story will end, or how. I'm beginning to wonder if it ever will. I'm having a good time writing it, so it might just go on forever….

Okay, okay. It won't.

I don't have anything profound to say right now. Writing continues to progress pretty quickly, so I'll try to update this again soon. Thanks for reading, reviewing, I hope you've enjoyed. Till next time, ja ne.


	22. Confrontations

**Enter The Light  
Part Twenty-Two: **Confrontations

* * *

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Characters are not mine; Digimon is not mine, etc. Plot is mine, so don't sue, don't steal. Thanks.

* * *

Hikari was still bent over a book in one of the many libraries, her eyes flying over the words as she absorbed as much as she could. The sun had gone down fully, lamps had been lit all over the island, and the spell-casters were taking the opportunity to practice spells of colored lights and fire, dazzling each other with their skills. Hikari, though, was so intent upon her education that she did not look up when the door opened and did not hear footsteps on the wood floor nor the metal staircase that wound its way to the loft of the library. She did not notice when the footsteps crossed the loft and stopped to rest near a chair not far from her. Thus, she jumped when Miyako spoke.

"Why haven't you told him?"

Trying to calm and slow her now rapidly beating heart, Hikari blinked dumbly at her unexpected visitor. "Did you arrive by magic?" she asked.

Miyako shook her head. "You were absorbed in reading," she said. "It's common with magic books."

"Is it?" Hikari shut the book she had been reading and turned it to glance toward the cover. The words were indistinguishable, the cover old and faded, yet the words within had been clear to her. "How interesting." She stretched her arms, suddenly feeling a weariness she had not felt a few moments before.

Miyako was quiet a few moments before she asked again. "Why haven't you told him?"

Hikari paused mid-yawn and blinked, then finished yawning and fell back on to the sofa she occupied. "Told who what?" she asked.

"Daisuke," the other said simply. "Why have you not told him?"

For a moment, the princess stared blankly, blinking a few times in confusion, and then comprehension dawned. She looked down at her bare feet, dangling below her, just above the smooth wood floor. "Who he is?"

"He doesn't remember. Or he does, but he can't." Miyako shook her head, trying to clear her mind, which had begun to become a bit fuzzy from trying to understand so much magic. "I'm not sure I entirely understand," she confessed. "He knows that there was a _before_, but he can't access memories of it…."

Hikari nodded. She looked at Miyako a moment, and then turned away, looking instead at nothing. A torch-flame danced behind a bookcase, casting shadows on the wall. For some time, there was quiet, and then Hikari sighed deeply. "This I know," she said finally. "This he told me…told Takeru, actually."

"Why -?" Miyako began again, and then stopped.

"I think it might hurt him," Hikari answered, her voice soft. She shook her head, then, contradicting herself. "I think he must remember on his own."

"Without his memories…" Miyako said, shaking her head. "Will they return when the spell is broken?"

"I hope so."

"Without his memories – is he…."

"Is he truly himself?" Hikari finished. She sighed deeply. "I don't know."

Again they fell silent. Miyako watched the torch-flame dance. Shadows flickered. Through an open window, they could hear the sounds of laughter as one of the more experienced spell-casters obliged his fellow mages by setting off a wonderful firework in the night sky. A few appreciative sounds drifted through the night, and in the distance, the sound of the ocean waves was a constant background.

"I dreamt," Hikari said conversationally. "Do you remember that I told you that? Just before I left home, I dreamt of him. I saw him, in a dark, damp dungeon underground, and he was in a thousand sorts of pain, and I could feel it all. The closer I got to him, the more pain there was, but I kept going. I wanted to help him. He told me to go." She paused, a faint smile appearing. "It seemed so much like something he would say to me. That I should leave, to spare myself the pain."

Miyako nodded, waiting for her to finish. A small explosion sounded outside, followed by the sounds of appreciative laughter and applause.

"I told him that I would not go, that I would not leave him. I told him to come with me, but he couldn't. He didn't have the strength to free himself. 'I will,' I said. 'I'll save you.' Do you know what he said?"

Miyako shook her head.

"He said he wasn't sure I could."

* * *

Taichi and Sora were engaged in a heated conversation (a less diplomatic person might have thought it an argument) when he arrived, and so Takeru peered round the corner into the small parlor where a relieved Iori had told him to go, trying to make himself visible and yet invisible at the same time.

"I'm not going," Sora was saying. She looked tired, her hair disheveled, her dress more wrinkled than usual, as though she had just awakened. Both arms were folded across her chest, her back turned on him. "You're not going to try to protect me from things, Taichi. I'm Chosen, same as everyone else."

"I'm not trying to protect you," Taichi disagreed. He was trying to explain himself to Sora's back, thus completely facing the wrong direction to notice Takeru. His clothes, too, were disheveled, though this was not unusual for Taichi, especially in the early morning. "I just think it's a good idea for you to go home. If I wanted to protect you, I would tell you to stay here."

She turned (Takeru ducked out of sight behind the doorframe) to face him, and Takeru heard confusion in her voice. "Stay here?" she echoed.

"Whatever is behind these attacks, I'm fairly certain they're not going to attack here," Taichi explained. "In fact, with the latest one, I'm beginning to think they might be targeting the Chosen."

"Targeting?"

"Trying to draw us apart, to separate us," he continued. "There are a thousand spells on this palace, a hundred mages, and a concentration of armed guards greater than any place else within a week's journey. You and Mimi were attacked beyond the grounds, beyond the range of the spells. If I wanted to keep you safe, I'd lock you in a room and see to it you didn't leave this building."

Takeru peered around the corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sora's reaction. Her eyes were wide as she was giving Taichi her full attention now, following him as he made his way toward a chair and sank into it, looking tired.

She was quiet a moment, taking it all in. "Then you think…you think my home will be next?" she finally said.

"I think it's possible," Taichi conceded. "I don't know if you being home will do anything to protect the villagers, but it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

Now it was Sora who sank heavily into a chair. There was silence for a moment. Takeru drew himself up to his full height and chose this moment, clearing his throat loudly before appearing in the doorway.

"You – um – wanted to see me?" he asked. Taichi and Sora both turned to face him, then exchanged glances. Feeling self conscious, Takeru wiped some unseen dust from the front of his worn tunic and tried to flatten his hair down – a difficult task, since Patamon was resting atop his head.

"There's been another attack," Taichi told him, getting to his feet. "South of here."

Takeru blinked. "Really?"

Taichi and Sora exchanged glances again. Takeru guessed that this was not the reaction they'd been expecting.

"Yes…," Taichi began to say.

"Wait," Takeru interrupted, holding up a hand. "There was an attack, south of here – and you've called _me_ here to tell me where. It's at _my_ home, right?"

Sora and Taichi exchanged glances yet again, and then both nodded. "Takeru," Sora said cautiously. "Are you all right?"

"I – I think so," Takeru answered. He was quiet a moment, thinking, and then he spoke again. "I have not been home in quite some time, you know."

"Yes…," they both answered, again looking at each other.

"I don't feel particularly homesick," Takeru continued, "as I never spent much time at home to begin with. And yet…and yet this morning, I was in the garden, thinking of home."

There was a moment of silence again.

"A strange coincidence," Patamon noted from atop his partner's head. Takeru glanced up.

"Is it?" Taichi wondered, one eyebrow raised in thought.

"What else would it be?" Takeru wondered, shrugging. He pushed the matter from his mind for the time being. "How bad is it?"

Taichi was still in thought, not having abandoned wherever his thoughts were taking him, and so it was Sora who answered. "There are only preliminary reports, of course. A Piyomon arrived this morning before sunrise. Two separate villages were attacked, as well as a mine."

"They attacked one of the mines?"

She nodded. "So far, no conclusion about who or what did the attacking, but I wouldn't be surprised if that crazy one wrapped in bandages was involved. He seems to be behind, or at least participating in all of these attacks so far, whoever he is. A few of the witnesses in Tachikawa report the same."

"It can't be a coincidence," Takeru concluded. "Whoever he is or whoever he works for, it seems he's after the Chosen. First Hikari, then you and Mimi, then Tachikawa, and now my home. I don't think they're random attacks."

"No," Taichi said, finally having abandoned his previous thoughts, at least for the moment. "I don't think they are either. How soon can you leave?"

"This afternoon."

* * *

The largest building on the Sanctuary Island was the one that held the offices of the Wizards Council. The largest gathering spot was within this building – inside a massive, circular hall that easily held nearly three hundred people. Today, however, it held two dozen, which was far more than Miyako thought needed to be present.

She was quiet, standing near the doorway, eyes watching Hikari, who was at the moment speaking with two or three other mages, tall women with long hair and pale skin who looked weak to normal sight and strong in magic to Miyako.

"Do you suppose it will work?" Hawkmon questioned of his partner. Miyako, arms folded and a frown on her face, shrugged lightly.

"I hope it will," she answered. "I think we are needed back home."

"Yes," Hawkmon agreed patiently. "Do you think it will work?"

She sighed, quiet a moment before she answered. "I don't know. The spell is not perfect, of course, but it will do something."

"Will it do enough?" he wondered.

"It will not break the spell," Miyako said. "I don't think it's strong enough, and I don't think any of the others think it will, either, but I think this will untangle some of it."

The room had gone quiet at some unspoken signal. Most of the mages moved to the sides of the circular room. The men were dressed in long white overcoats, their hands tucked into their sleeves, their arms folded in front of them. The women stood in the same position and wore white gowns. Their partners sat on their shoulders or stood upon the floor beside them, quietly watching. All was quiet. In the center of the circle stood Hikari, dressed in a similar white gown, and Daisuke, still enspelled. Tailmon, blue eyes wide, observed the whole thing.

Outside of the circle was Miyako, Hawkmon perched on her shoulder, both watching through the spaces of the circle.

"Anything new?" Mimi questioned. Yamato shook his head.

"There are so many footprints and tracks around the outside of this village that it's impossible to distinguish any of them. And, there's no other clues as to what might have been here or done any damage," he answered. "Have you had any luck?"

Yamato sat on a small wooden bench and began to pry off his boots, which had been completely covered with mud during his trek around the outside of the village. For the purposes of their investigation, he and Mimi had set up shop in a small building that served as the offices of the village magistrate. Although it was designed as an office, it was large enough so that both could set up cots for sleeping and not have to travel back to Mimi's parents estate in the evening – a great help as it was some distance from the village.

Mimi had been spending her time interviewing every person and digimon who had been witness to the attack. It had been dusk when the attack had come – making the accounts not only greatly varied but also very vague and confused. She sighed deeply and sank into a large wooden chair behind the magistrate's desk.

"Yes and no," she answered, yawning. It was after dark now, and it had been a long day. Gesturing to a tall pile of papers precariously perched upon the edge of the desk, she said, "I wrote down everything that everyone had to say – or at least most of it. We'll have to go through it and see if we can draw any conclusions. So far the only thing any of the reports have in common is that they were big and there were a lot of them." She yawned again, leaning back in the chair.

Boots now removed, Yamato rubbed his tired feet. Gabumon was yawning twice as wide as Mimi, and leaning against the edge of the bench as Yamato said, "So we have basically about the same conclusion as we had before we left?"

"Well, not exactly," Mimi said, but before she could continue her defense there was a knock at the door. It creaked open and a soldier poked his head around the frame.

"This arrived just now from the palace," he reported, holding up a scroll of parchment bound together with a piece of string. "Orders were to bring it straight to one of you two."

"I'll take it," Yamato said, as he was closer, and stretched across the space between himself and the door so he could take it without having to get to his feet. Mimi yawned again and leaned back in the chair, eyes partly closed, as he read the message.

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the crackling of the fireplace that lit the small office and another yawn by Mimi. Yamato sighed deeply and got to his feet, slowly.

"Something wrong?" Mimi wanted to know.

"Yeah," he answered, walking past her. "I've got to go home. I'm leaving first thing in the morning."

"What?" Mimi sat up a bit straighter and turned in her chair. "Why?"

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, one foot on the first step, heading to bed. "There's been another attack. I'll take whatever you've got back with me. Come if you wish, but I'm leaving tomorrow."

With that, he was gone.

* * *

For a long moment, there was a light, so bright that it was only with great effort that Miyako did not look away from the center of the circle, although many of the others did. Then, the light faded, but the magic did not. Miyako pushed up her spectacles, which had been hovering at the edge of her nose in case they were needed.

Hikari appeared drained even without magical sight. She wavered and wobbled on her feet, looking pale and weak, and as though she was about to fall. Miyako thought about stepping forward to help her and saw that many of the other mages had similar thoughts and had taken a step or two forward, abandoning their previously stoic positions. Before any of them could reach her, however, her knees went weak and her legs failed to support her.

Two arms reached out to grab her before she fell.

* * *

It was with great reluctance that Sora had entered the carriage and it was with greater reluctance that she had not told the driver to turn around at least seventeen times previously. With the sun nearly set, she found that she had never been less pleased to see her home appear before her.

Within sight of Sora's home– and Miyako's, only a short walk away – the carriage suddenly stopped short, and a pained cry pierced the cool pre-dusk air. Sora was flung forward from her seat and slammed into the front wall of the carriage. Before she had time to collect herself and realize what had happened, another cry rang out. Hurriedly, Sora got to her feet and flung open the door of the carriage, Piyomon right behind her.

"HAHA!"

The creature she had become so familiar with of late was before her, laughing maniacally and firing off a barrage of miniature missiles, same as he had done when she had last seen him.

Sora wasted no time with words, no time with contemplation of the situation. Her digivice was already in one hand; Piyomon already taken to the sky.

"Piyomon evolve!" called the pink bird. The light was bright for a moment and then it faded to reveal that "Birdramon!" had appeared in midair.

The shout of pain that she had heard had evidently come from the carriage driver, who was slumped over, unconscious in his seat. The pair of Monochromon that had pulled the carriage had apparently been destroyed and deleted, as there was no sign of them.

Birdramon flew toward the bandaged digimon, crying "Meteor Wing." The creature easily evaded, however, with little difficulty, and more of his laughter rang out.

The driver was alive, but badly injured. From what Sora could tell, three or more of the tiny missiles had hit him. His partner Plotmon was lying on his chest, also unconscious. Sora thought it would be best to get them both inside the relative safety of the carriage, but was not quite sure if she could manage to bring him by herself.

Before she could consider dragging the driver out of his seat and into the carriage, however, Sora was distracted. Something in the air felt strange, and when she looked up to see how her partner was faring, she saw that an army of digimon had appeared from nowhere.

There were easily three dozen Tyrannomon, two score Mushmon, another dozen Lopmon, three Woodmon, two Mammothmon, and one rather ferocious Golemon. For a brief moment, Sora couldn't move. The army was humongous, far more powerful than anything she could hope to defeat on her own. Above them all, standing upon the head of one of the Mammothmon, was the bandaged digimon, laughing maniacally and pointing in the direction of the village nearby.

"No!" Sora shouted, but they paid her no mind, and the massive army before her began to slowly lumber in the indicated direction. She bit back a curse under her breath. "Birdramon!"

Her partner landed beside her a moment later, and a moment after that Sora was in the air, flying over the army below. "We have to stop them somehow," she told her partner, who agreed.

"Yes, but how?"

"With fire," Sora decided after a moment of thought. "Birdramon, can you make a wall of fire between them and the village? Maybe that might stop them…."

"It's worth a try," her partner agreed, flying closer.

* * *

Woo-hoo. Action! Sort of.

So. There's progress being made, there's a cliffhanger, there's a little bit of action.

To come? The next part has more action, a bit more violence, and a bit of a surprise. No, no I won't say what the surprise is.

Still making good progress on this, so I'll try to have that next part out soon. Until then, ja ne!


	23. The Bandit's Return to Action

**Enter The Light**

**Part Twenty Three: **The Bandit's Return to Action

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie: **Characters are not mine, plot mostly is. Trying to sue will get you nothing, as I have no money – I just spent it all on this new laptop, which you can't have either. Stealing is probably a waste of your time, too.

* * *

Her vision was blurry and her head was spinning. It seemed as though she would crash to the floor, and yet Hikari did not have the strength to stop herself. She felt her eyes closing and then she felt the world turn upside down. Managing to force her eyes open, she saw the ground was rushing closer.

And then it wasn't, for something – no, some_one_ had grabbed her and was managing to hold her up, to hold her steady. Feeling light headed, Hikari turned her eyes in the direction of her rescuer and saw two clear, though confused, eyes meeting her own.

"Hikari?" he said then, and she smiled. "Are you - ?"

"I'll be fine," she said, and then she shut her eyes and saw no more.

* * *

"Meteor Wing!" shouted Birdramon again and a rain of fire came down on the ground.

There was a wall of flames now between the village and the encroaching army of digimon, but Sora knew that it would only be a temporary measure. Birdramon flew over the wall and landed on the ground beyond.

"Stay here and do what you can," Sora told her partner as she climbed down. "Keep those flames up as long as possible. I've got to try to help the villagers. I'll send them home…I don't know where else…."

"Go," Birdramon advised. "Hurry."

Sora was halfway to the village when she spotted a flash of something in the sky and turned to see that the bug-like digimon she had seen near the palace was now flying in the direction of the army. "Who - ," she wondered momentarily, but put it aside and hurried to the village.

Another flash of movement caught her eye just on the outskirts of the town, this time a flash of a black color, but again, she pushed it from her mind and ran into the village center.

It wasn't difficult to inform the villagers of the trouble, for they were mostly aware of the approaching army and the wall of fire that tenuously protected them. "No, no!" Sora said, stopping a young man and woman who were running northward. "That way. Go that way." She pointed them in the direction of her home. They hesitated only briefly, and then nodded.

One of the villagers, a middle-aged woman, recognized her. "Thank you Lady Sora," she said. "Bless your heart."

Sora smiled briefly and urged her onward. "Hurry," she told her. "Or you won't have anything to thank me for."

"There's not much time," a voice said from behind her, and she turned to see that a stranger she recognized, dressed in black, was standing behind her, on the roof of a small hut, turned to face the wall of fire and the encroaching army. "I don't suppose you have a plan for saving yourself?"

He turned his face to look at her, and Sora saw that it was indeed who she had thought. His eyes were the same blue she remembered, his hair the same dark color, his smile the same mischievous smirk she recalled from nearly a year earlier when he had saved Miyako's life in this very village.

"You live," she gasped, though she had never clearly thought that he might be dead. "I had thought -." But what had she thought?

The smirk faded. "Your tactic was a good idea," said the Dark Bandit. "I don't think it will hold much longer, though, and your partner tires."

"Do you think they'll be safer there?" Sora asked.

"I don't know," he answered, frowning deeply now. "We shall see. Go and collect your partner. I'll direct the stragglers. There's nothing left here now except things."

* * *

Hikari was swallowed in a sea of white robes, for the mages had surrounded her almost immediately and were carrying her to a room where she might rest.

Miyako, on the edge of the action, watched as she was swept away, then found herself alone in the room. Almost alone, that is.

Daisuke was watching the crowd as it flowed from the room. When it had left, he seemed to come awake, and look around at his surroundings for the first time. When his eyes met Miyako, he stopped, looking at her for a long moment as though trying to remember something.

She stepped forward, eager to know what he remembered and yet not wishing to frighten him if he truly did remember nothing. "Are you - ?" she began, but then wasn't sure how to finish the question and so let it trail off into nothing.

He said nothing, didn't seem to even realize that she'd spoken. His silence, which was so very unlike everything Miyako knew Daisuke to be, was eerie, and if not for his eyes, which were now very much his own, she would have wondered if the spell had worked at all.

It had, at least partially, she saw, for the multiple strands of dark magic that had wound around him, forming a complex web that had covered him from head to toe, were gone. Yet something remained. Hikari's attempt had not completely broken the spell, and yet he was free, or so it seemed. There was one little remnant of something….

"I know you," Daisuke said then, startling her. It had been a long silence, and she had begun to wonder if he _could_ speak. He took a step forward, squinting. "I - ," he hesitated. "I'm not sure why…."

"The memories," she said. "They are not yet clear?"

He shook his head, finally looking away from her, and looked around the rest of the empty, huge room. "Where am I?"

"The Sanctuary of Magic," Miyako answered. "On an island in the middle of the sea. What do you remember?"

He was quiet for a moment, looking toward the doorway by which Hikari had left. "Hikari," he said, his voice faint. "I remember her. I'm not sure why. And you." Daisuke shut his eyes, thinking, searching.

"Do you remember…," she began, but he interrupted.

"I remember," he said, opening his eyes once more. "I remember you. Miyako." He looked at the ceiling, not seeing it but thinking. "You shared a secret, didn't you?" Again, he met her eyes with questions.

"Yes," she said, almost having forgotten it herself. "Yes, I did. I do. It's still a secret."

There was a long silence. In the distance, they could hear the sound of voices talking in casual conversation, but no sounds of the outside filtered through the walls.

"The last thing I remember," he said, "is fire."

* * *

The flames leapt into the sky, but only reached a few inches now. Sora, with Piyomon in her arms looking a bit tired, watched from beyond the village grounds as the massive army made its way through the village, destroying homes and businesses and crushing much of the farms beyond.

"I shouldn't have argued with him," Sora berated herself. "I should have come right away."

"You couldn't have known," he disagreed. "You came as quickly as you could. And even if you had come earlier, what then? You cannot stop all of them on your own."

"No," she admitted, feeling suddenly tired. She sat down in the cool grass, the warm sun sinking behind her. "What do they want?"

"It's hard to say," the bandit answered, having folded his arms before him, a frown on his face. "I think they are testing you."

"Testing?" she echoed, looking up at him. "Why?"

"Not you, personally," he amended. "The Chosen. They want to know what you're capable of, what you can do. And, they are looking for something."

"What? They've attacked villages connected to the Chosen, but villages with nothing of value in them…."

"Nothing?" he echoed. "Perhaps there is something of value. Perhaps it depends on what you value."

"Fire?" Miyako questioned, and then nodded. "In the forest…."

"Yes," he said, frowning. He shook his head. "Everything else is a blur."

"I think it will become clearer. The memories. They'll return, in time, I'm sure." She smiled in a way she hoped was reassuring. "I think you need to rest."

Daisuke turned toward the door by which Hikari had left, a dour sort of expression still on his face. "I want to see her. Is she all right?"

"She's fine," Miyako assured him. "She's tired, and she needs to rest, but she's not hurt. You need to rest, too. Come."

His expression was reluctant, but he followed.

* * *

The last of the Lopmon was scurrying through the village streets, hurrying to catch up with the army that had gone ahead of it. From behind a house still smoldering from the attack, Sora watched it scamper forward and then she followed, dashing across the street to take shelter behind another building, this one with its roof nearly torn off and one wall completely destroyed.

The village itself was half gone. The army of digimon, with the bandaged leader at the front, had torn a path through the village center, leaving a mess of flattened, smoking, and burnt buildings in its wake. Following it at a relatively safe distance, Sora was relieved to see no bodies and no injured. Beyond the center of the town, homes and shops were unharmed, but those that had stood in the way of the march had been completely ruined.

Past the village was farmland, and in the light of the setting sun the monsters were black shapes against the darkening sky. Sora hid behind the remains of tall stalks and followed, carrying Piyomon in her arms.

"Where do you think they're going?" the small bird questioned.

"I have no idea," she answered, shaking her head. "There's nothing out here but farmland. They took nothing from the village, and all the people have gone to safety." She glanced to the right, where her own home was, where the villagers were now, apparently safe. The army showed no interest in changing direction for the moment, for which Sora was relieved.

Suddenly, the march halted. None of the digimon spoke, although a few of the Lopmon near the back of the line began to silently argue, poking one another with their paws and tugging on one another's ears. Sora took advantage of the pause to dart forward through the fields on either side, trying to see what was happening at the front of the line.

The bandaged digimon was in the front of the crowd, surveying his troops. After a few moments, even the scuffling Lopmon fell silent, and it seemed to Sora as though they were waiting for something.

"Hmph," said the leader, and turned away from them. He took a few steps forward and then, from nowhere, a tall, thin woman appeared before him.

"This was the best you could manage?" she asked.

"You're late," he responded, obviously displeased. In the increasing darkness, Sora could not easily see their expressions, but she could tell that each was unhappy with the other.

"This is all fun and games to you, isn't it?" the woman questioned. She turned, and Sora could see that she wore a wide-brimmed hat and a thin skirt. Her shoes had tall heels, and she carried a thin staff in one hand that she absently twirled as she spoke. "Have you forgotten we have a purpose _other_ than to stomp over human villages?"

From seemingly nowhere, the digimon had produced a tall hat, which he now placed atop his head, and a coat, which he drew over his shoulders. He took the thin staff from the woman and leaned heavily upon it as though suddenly tired and old. From a distance, Sora realized that he was human-looking in the dim light.

"Have you?" he retorted. "Have you managed to bring the master what he seeks, or have you simply been toying and playing with him, too?"

"My business is my own. Don't question my methods," she answered sharply. A few of the Lopmon in the front of the pack drew back, frightened by the anger in her voice, but their leader did not.

"And yet you question mine, dear sister?" he shot back.

There was a moment of tense silence. Sora tried not to breathe. None of the army moved.

"You," the woman said then, "are a fool." She turned away and walked a few steps up a small hill, a low rise in the land. "I have conjured an army for you, and you use it to destroy a village and a few farms. Two of the Chosen in your sights and you failed to terminate either of them."

She turned sharply again and looked out over the troops. "Be gone," she said, her voice a crisp command, and waved her arm.

The army disappeared into the night air with no further sound.

Sora felt a shiver travel down her spine. An entire army vanquished into the dark night and nary a trace remaining in evidence of its presence. This woman must surely be a powerful sorceress! And – _two _Chosen? Who was the other?

The desire for argument seemed to have waned in the digimon, however, for he shrugged, limping up the small hill with apparent difficulty. "There was nothing here, anyway," he said. "I had some fun and damaged a bit of property. No harm done, eh?"

"No harm indeed," she muttered. "I daresay you were supposed to do harm!"

Again, the digimon shrugged. "There was nothing here to damage," he replied, having reached the top of the hill. "No crystals. Nothing. Can we go now?"

"You're helpless, aren't you? Helpless _and _hopeless."

"Yes," he answered cheerfully.

And then they were gone.

* * *

Miyako had slept little, but could sleep no more. With Hawkmon trailing her on foot, she crossed the island in the early morning and sought out Hikari.

The mages had carried her back to her room and she had slept all night. Miyako slipped through the door with as little noise as possible and saw that Hikari still slept and still looked a little pale. Tailmon was curled in a ball at the foot of the bed, snoring lightly. The room was otherwise empty, and so Miyako sat in a chair across from the bed and lost herself in her own thoughts.

She must have dozed a bit, because the next thing she knew, the sun was a bit higher in the sky and the room was brighter than she remembered. Hikari had awakened and was sitting up in bed, peering out at the ocean, watching the waves lap up against the shore through the window.

"Good morning," she said, noticing that Miyako had come awake, and turned away from the window.

"How do you feel?" Miyako asked, stretching to remove the kinks that come from falling asleep in a chair.

"Exhausted," Hikari replied cheerfully. "Yet, better. How is he?"

The reply had to wait until Miyako had finished a rather powerful yawn. "Confused," she said when she had regained the power of speech. "The memories are returning to him, but not in order, and he doesn't know what to make of them." She shrugged lightly. "It will take time."

"Mmm," came the reply. "I don't think he'll remember much of anything here. He needs to go home – to where the memories are."

"Then we'll take him home," Miyako decided. "As soon as you have regained your strength."

"Yes," Hikari agreed. She turned toward the window again and spent a few moments watching the waves and feeling the cool ocean breezes. "Stay with him, Miyako."

"Stay - ?" she echoed.

"I don't think he should be alone."

"He won't be," Miyako assured her. "This island is full of people – you can't think any of them mean him harm?"

"I don't think they do," Hikari answered, turning away from the window. "I don't think he should be alone. I think he should be with someone from his past. Stay with him, please. Don't tell him the story of his past, let it come to him. And don't pressure him to remember, but stay with him if he does."

* * *

Sora had hoped that the morning would bring some amount of clarity to her thoughts, but she awoke as confused as she had been the evening before.

The village that had been half destroyed the night before was no more than an hour's walk from her home. Takenouchi had been built not far from Inoue, with only a small field between the two homes. In the space between the buildings and the village, there was a wide field and a small orchard full of small fruit trees. A road gently meandered between the two houses and then through the orchard to the village beyond. Past the village on all three sides was farmland and then beyond that, fields and forests, with roads and paths heading away south and north and east and west.

The field was full of villagers when she looked out from the house, preparing to return home. Miyako's father, Lord Inoue, was trying to organize the migration, while his wife and Sora's mother were helping mend wounds and heal the suffering. None of the injuries looked terrible – save, of course, for the driver of Sora's carriage, who had been badly wounded. Most of the villagers had been able to escape before the deadly march began. The difficulty would now lie in rebuilding that which had been destroyed.

Sora peered down at the scene from her bedroom window in the early morning, feeling cold despite the warm sun, her mind still as preoccupied as the evening before. She had hoped for and was not surprised by the sight of a mysterious bandit in the shadows.

"Two of them," Sora told him before he could ask. "Two who led the attack. The digimon in bandages led them to a hill just beyond the farms and met with a woman – a sorceress. She vanished the army without breaking a sweat and then they disappeared, leaving more questions than answered."

"A woman? Wearing red?" he questioned.

"I don't know," she answered, puzzled by the question, but puzzled by too many other questions in her own mind to be much concerned by this one. "It was too dark. They argued, she and the digimon. He called her 'sister.'"

He was silent, not offering his thoughts on the matter.

Feeling tired despite a good night's rest, Sora sighed, leaning against the metal railing of the veranda, peering over the edge. "I think I ought to leave here. I have done what I came for, and there's not much left to be done. Not for me, anyway."

"There's much left to do, Lady Sora. Much left to find out. Too many questions." He seemed to be talking to himself.

"Wait," Sora realized, turning around. "What does it matter if she's in red…have you seen her…."

He was gone.

"…before…?" Sora finished lamely.

* * *

A little bit of action here, a few questions answered, a few more raised. Whee. No serious cliffhangers this time – I've decided to go easy.

So the spell is broken but not? What do the mysterious digimon have in store for the Chosen? What will happen now?

The tension is killing you, isn't it?

Hopefully, I'll have the next part out before long. Expect ever more action, a few more questions answered, a few more raised, etc. I don't know when or how this whole thing will end, so stay tuned! Till next time, ja ne.


	24. Home

**Enter The Light**

**Part Twenty-Four: **Home

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie:** Digimon, all related characters, merchandise, television, etc, is not mine. I make no money from the creation of this _fan_fiction. I do it because…well…I'm crazy and I strangely enjoy it. Don't steal, don't sue. Thanx.

* * *

"No," Koushiro answered, a frown on his face. "Nothing. Not a single mention."

"That doesn't make any sense," Takeru grumbled. He gave up his pacing and sat down heavily in the nearest chair. He'd just returned from his parents' home that morning, and he still had the dust from the mine shafts in his hair and eyebrows. Absently, he rubbed his head behind his ears, the dust itching his scalp. "I've seen him. Sora's seen him. Mimi saw him. At least a hundred witnesses saw him. Is it a mass hallucination? We can't _all_ be crazy!"

"The odds _are_ against it," Gomamon put in from his partner's shoulder. Jyou shot him a look, and he grinned cheekily.

"Could it be some sort of magic?" Yamato wondered, turning away from the window and leaning against the frame. "Some sort of elaborate illusion, maybe?"

All eyes turned toward Koushiro, who frowned even deeper. "It seems possible, though unlikely."

"Why would anyone do that, though?" Sora asked. She was seated on a dark blue couch, Mimi beside her. "Why would anyone go to so much trouble to try to show us something that doesn't exist?"

No one had an answer for that worth sharing.

"I have been diligently searching through an innumerable amount of books and volumes," Koushiro reported. "While I have seen no mention of either the digimon in bandages or the sorceress you reported, Sora, I have discovered many mentions of magical crystals."

"Many?" Sora echoed.

"Crystals are potent items, used in quite a few spells and magical items," the wizard responded. "Any simple beginner's spell book has quite a few things that could be done with crystals. I doubt, however, that what you overheard was anything that would be found in a beginner's spell book."

"So, any idea of what they _could _have been talking about?" Takeru wanted to know.

"Some," Koushiro answered. "There are many worlds which are near to our own and yet cannot be seen or reached by ordinary humans. To reach another world, it requires a great deal of magic and a great deal of need. In fact, the magic required is such that it cannot usually be summoned by any individual spell-caster. To reach another world, it is necessary to have a group of mages working together, and even then, it is not always certain that the spell will succeed.

"However, crystals being as potent as they are, are capable of storing a great deal of magic, often for centuries. If the crystals stored enough magic and they were located in places that have magical powers of their own, during a time of great magic…the full moon, for example…it is theoretically possible to open a portal to another world."

"Theoretically possible?" Yamato questioned. "As in, you're not sure?"

"As in no one's sure," Koushiro replied. "The history of magic goes back centuries, to before the advent of writing, and even things that are written down cannot always be successfully preserved for centuries. In all of the written records I have consulted, there has been no one who has ever _actually _used crystals to open a portal to another world, at least not for more than a few seconds."

"That doesn't mean they didn't, though," Takeru put in. "It could be that they did, but it was never reported. Or they passed through the portal but never returned."

"Why would they be searching in villages for crystals?" Sora questioned. "Surely it's possible to easily obtain crystals…?"

"Ridiculously simple," Koushiro assured her. "Any small village would have a shop full of them – they're used for decoration, in lights, in windows, in jewlery. I would guess that they are not searching for just _any _crystals, but specific crystals, perhaps which have been powered with magic."

"They're searching for crystals…specific crystals?" Yamato wondered.

"That would be my guess," the wizard answered.

"Why?" Mimi wanted to know. "Do they want to go somewhere?"

"No," Taichi said, speaking for the first time. "They want to bring something here."

"What?"

"An army."

* * *

The day was quite warm, the sun high in the sky and the weather pleasant as the carriage neared its destination. Peering out through the glass windows, Hikari saw green grass and blue sky everywhere. She turned to her traveling companion, who was also staring out the window with some interest, and asked, "Do you remember this place?"

"This place?" he echoed, still intently studying the scenery. "I – I don't think so…."

"It's only grass and sky now," Tailmon reminded her partner in a sleepy voice, resting on the seat beside Hikari. "I don't think you'd remember it either." She yawned, showing her teeth, and shut her blue eyes once more.

"You're right, of course," Hikari consented. "I'm sorry. I'm terribly fearful that you don't remember anything and won't again." She frowned.

"You're partially afraid of his sister," Tailmon mumbled without opening her eyes.

Daisuke turned away from the window, a look of surprise on his otherwise confused face. "Afraid of my sister?" he echoed. "Should_ I_ be afraid?"

"No," Hikari stated authoritatively, glaring at her partner, who paid no attention, having resumed her nap. "She's only joking. I'm not afraid of your sister." She paused. "Jun is a bit…intimidating…when she is concerned about you. That's all."

Tailmon yawned loudly without opening her eyes.

"Intimidating," Daisuke repeated. He frowned in thought, and glanced out the window once more. Something caught his eye that he did not remember, for he pointed and questioned, "What's that?"

Hikari peered in the direction he had pointed. A very large pile of heavy stones and pieces of broken and splintered wood lay upon the ground. The carriage slowly rumbled passed, the road then curving away from the wreckage. "It used to be a prison," she told him, feeling slightly cold at the memory of the Bakemon who had briefly guarded and inhabited the structure.

He was quiet, his eyes glancing back as they left the rubble behind. He turned away from the window, the object of interest no longer visible. He was quiet a moment, and then asked, "What happened to it?"

Tailmon opened one eye, glancing in the direction of her partner. When a few moments had gone by in silence, the feline digimon reported: "We destroyed it."

Hikari cast another glare in her partner's direction. Tailmon only shrugged and shut her eye again, continuing her feigned sleep.

"Destroyed it? Really?" Some part of Daisuke must have thought this to be amusing in some way. He raised his eyebrows and a hint of a grin appeared on his face.

Hikari sighed. "Yes," she admitted. "Not purposefully. It's a long story."

There was no longer a hint of a grin, but an actual grin appearing on his face now, making Daisuke look more like himself than he had in some time. "You'll have to tell me."

"Some other time, perhaps," she told him, turning to peer out the window once more, uncertain whether to be pleased at his enthusiasm or not. Her own memories of the destruction of the prison were not memories she particularly wanted to revisit.

Daisuke didn't appear to be too upset by her reluctance, however, for he shortly resumed his own scenery gazing. The carriage wheels squeaked beneath them as they turned around a bend in the road and the place he had been born in appeared before them.

It was not the largest building in the kingdom, but it was an impressive sight – a massive home built with red-brick stones and dark black tiled roof, with many towers, a thick iron gate, a long drive up to the house itself through the surrounding gardens. Hikari turned away from the building so she might see if the sight of his home stirred any memories in him.

Daisuke was staring with eyes wide, his mouth having fallen slightly open. "Do you remember?" Hikari asked him.

He turned to face her, his eyes still wide open, and blinked once before he asked: "Are you sure…?"

"Sure?" she repeated, confused. "Sure of what?"

"Are you sure this is where," he paused, turned back to face their destination, "this is where _l_ live?"

"I am completely certain," she assured him. Hikari glanced back toward Tailmon, whose blue eyes met her partner's and reflected her own concern.

The vehicle came to a halt at the end of the long drive, directly in front of the main entrance, which was a set of large double doors made of dark wood set into the red brick stones. Daisuke had by this time adopted an expression of stunned silence – although his eyes had retreated back _inside_ his head, they were still wide with surprise, and he had said nothing further.

As Hikari had sent no word ahead to alert Jun that they were coming, she was not surprised to find that the front of the house was quite silent and devoid of people. She climbed down from the cart and waited while their driver went to announce their arrival to the household. Having been a bit fearful that Daisuke would be reluctant to leave the carriage, she was pleased to find that he climbed down without a moment's hesitation.

He stood on the dusty walkway and stared up at the house, but no longer with simple surprise. A different sort of expression was now on his face, for he was frowning, and his eyes were narrowed.

Hikari turned to hear the door open and a few servants came down the tall steps in a hurry. The leader, an elderly woman with gray hair hastily thrown into a bun, apologized for the delay. "Lady Jun will be down in a moment, I assure you, Princess," she told her. "Your visit is…unexpected."

"It's perfectly understandable," Hikari told her, and turned back toward Daisuke so she might urge him inside. He was gone.

* * *

The gardens were in full bloom, unfolding in a tapestry of colors that blanketed the house on all sides. The grass was a magnificent green and the trees were a mix of pink and white blossoms that fluttered in the warm breezes. A single stone path twisted and whirled its way through the grounds, through flowerbeds, under branches with overhanging blossoms, past a few pools and near the creek, where a small wooden bridge led the way to the fields beyond.

There were workers aplenty in the fields, planting and watering, weeding and tending, each visible from the stone path as nothing more than small blurry blobs in the distance, some wearing wide straw hats to keep the sun from their faces.

There was a faint sense of familiarity here, though no clear memories. Daisuke followed the stone as it led around the house. Behind it, he saw the kitchen entrance, where many servants hurried in and out, some carrying water from the creek beyond, others off on other errands or chores. He turned and went another direction, not wishing to be seen.

Near the creek's edge was a graveyard, a small iron fence surrounding it, an ancient tree's branches sheltering it from the sun, making the whole of it shady. Drawn to it, Daisuke strayed from the stone path for the first time, making his way across the thick grasses.

It was a small cemetery, a tiny square of fenced-off land set aside for the burial of the dead. Stone markers, made from the same pale-gray material as the path he had followed, were etched with the names of his dead ancestors, some of them long dead, some of them only recently deceased. If he had hoped that seeing them would bring back some sort of familial memory, Daisuke was mistaken, for most of the names unfamiliar and the dates from before his birth. Feeling discouraged, he wandered amongst the stones, reading each marker and becoming more and more certain that Hikari had been wrong.

If there had been an illusion once, he reasoned, there could be an illusion again. Suppose this was not him. Suppose that the person that she thought he must be was only another illusion that had yet to be broken.

In the center of the graveyard was a small wooden bench, and he sank into it, feeling discouraged and depressed. This was not his home. These were not his ancestors or relatives. He could not remember anything. Perhaps he was no one after all and never _had _been anyone at all.

For quite some time he sat, eyes focused on a spot of ground just past his feet, a warm breeze occasionally tousling his hair or blowing a few blossoms past his face. In the distance, he could hear snippets of lively conversations near the kitchen entrance, but they were of no interest to him, and he could make out no words clearly.

The sun was beginning to go down, though he was not aware of it. A cool breeze jolted him from his dark thoughts and he stood, knowing that he could not spend all day in this place and not eager to spend the dark night in a graveyard.

The branches of the tree above him waved in the breeze and then, suddenly, a small fruit unexpectedly fell from above and landed at his feet with a thud in the grass. Drawn to the sound, he saw the unripe object on the ground, and then his eyes wandered to the name on the gravestone above it.

This name, he recognized.

* * *

"No," Hikari said when several of the servants offered to go after Daisuke. "He'll come back on his own, soon enough. Leave him be for now."

They hesitated, nervous eyes glancing between each other, but agreed. The elderly housekeeper nodded, bowing on behalf of the others. "As you wish, your majesty," she said pleasantly. "Please, come inside."

Hikari did not have to wait long for Jun, for she had reached the bottom of the main staircase just as Hikari entered the hall. She had likely hurried, for her hair was a jumbled mess and she half wore, half-carried a shawl over her right shoulder. Jun appeared as though she very much would have liked to ask and demand quite a few things, but she held her tongue for the moment and said only, "It is good to see you, princess. I am sorry I was not here before…your visit is rather unexpected. My father is out in the fields, working."

"I know," Hikari told her gently. "It's quite all right. I wonder if I could speak to you, Jun. We have a few things to discuss."

"I daresay we do," Jun agreed, only barely managing to keep a lid on her impatience. "Let us find a suitable place to talk." She turned, hefting her shawl over both shoulders.

Soon enough, both women emerged into a small but comfortable looking sitting room. Tailmon made herself comfortable on the back of one of the plush couches, looking for all the world as though she wanted nothing more than a long nap. Hikari sat on the same couch, and Jun took a seat on an overstuffed armchair across from her.

Hikari was not quite sure where to begin, but was saved from doing so when Jun spoke. "Takeru came here some time ago – about a month now, I suppose. He told me…he told me a very unusual story. It was not what I expected to hear."

She waited, but Jun did not seem to be inclined to say anything more yet, so she nodded. "He was very insistent that someone should send word to you," she recalled. "I am glad that he came to you himself. I assume he told you the truth."

"He told me that my brother was with you, on a boat, headed to sea and a magical island that could free him from a spell," Jun stated. "That's the truth, I hope?"

Hikari nodded.

"And you have returned now? Does that mean that the spell has been broken?"

She hesitated a moment before she answered, and Jun could see that. Hikari had thought long and hard about how to answer such a question, but had not yet come up with an answer that satisfied her. "In a way, yes," she finally said.

Jun opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind and shut it, waiting instead for the explanation to be completed.

"I don't know exactly what happened to him," Hikari began. "Daisuke doesn't remember much of it, and I wasn't there. I can piece together the bits he does remember from what I have been told, and from there, I can try to make a bit of sense of what has happened."

She paused briefly, gathering her thoughts, and then continued, "I think it's best to begin at the beginning. You traveled to Ichijouji because he could not, being that we were in the Eastern Lands, fighting. While we were in the Eastern Lands, _someone_ gave Daisuke a book and showed him a prophecy of the future, telling him that it would be important.

"Things were a bit…crazy for a while. When we returned to the palace, Daisuke decided that he would go to Ichijouji, too, but then he remembered the book. It seems that some sort of spell was placed on it, so that he was the only one who could touch it. He couldn't remember the prophecy, only that it was in the book. We thought that the prophecy might be of importance, and so we convinced him not to go after you, but to stay behind. In his place, Miyako went.

"Unfortunately, right after Miyako left, there was a vicious blizzard, and we feared Miyako might not survive the snows. Daisuke, Yamato, and I went to try and find her. Both of us were attacked by Bakemon. Miyako flew home, not knowing that we had been searching for her. The rest of us were separated during an attack. When the flames cleared, there was no sign of Daisuke."

Jun nodded. "This I know…," she interrupted.

"Yes," Hikari agreed. "And after this is where we have only speculation. Whoever it was that gave Daisuke that book also placed two spells on him, and whoever he was also brought him to the prison." She turned and pointed behind her, in the direction of the village and the rubble that had been there.

"To the…," Jun began, and broke off, eyes wide.

"One spell was a spell of slavery," Hikari continued. "I don't know why or for what purpose the spell was placed on him, but it was, and so was an illusion spell. It was nearly a month later that I came in contact with the one who had placed the spell on him, and he told me that the counter spell, the spell that would remove the slave spell, was in the book of dark magic and prophecy he had given Daisuke, and that book was lost."

"Lost?" Jun had grown a bit pale.

"There were two spells on him," Hikari reminded her. "One was of illusion. I did not agree to take Daisuke because I knew who he was – I did not recognize him, I did not know there was an illusion on him. I agreed because otherwise his former master would have killed him."

Jun was distinctly white now.

"Some boys from your village found his digivice in the rubble of the prison," she went on. "Miyako brought it to me, and then we were attacked near the coast. It was only then, when we were in danger, that somehow V-mon appeared, evolved, saved Daisuke and the rest of us, and then disappeared. The magic of the evolution must have been enough to break the illusion, but not enough to free him."

"And so you went to the island," Jun finished, her face slowly regaining a bit of color. "Did it work?"

Hikari was quite a moment before she answered. "The spell placed on him is ancient. Even in a place filled with magical knowledge, there was no record of a counter spell. I think the only place it was written was in that book – wherever it is now."

"Then it didn't work," Jun concluded, a frown appearing on her face. She was studying the leaves of a tree growing beyond the window she faced. A few cheerful blossoms scattered in the wind.

"Not in the way I'd hoped, no," Hikari answered. "I couldn't break the spell, nor could anyone else, not without that counter spell. However, I was able to…reduce its effects." When Jun looked up, curious confusion on her face, she explained: "The spell is dormant."

There was a moment of silence while Jun digested these words, and then she shook her head. "What does that mean? Is he still – Does the spell still bind him to you, or has he free will now?"

"Both," Hikari answered. "The spell was defeated, but not broken. So long as no one interferes, it will have no effect on him."

"And if someone interferes…?"

"If someone interferes – if someone chooses to reactivate the spell, then it will return, at full strength, and it will be as though it was never defeated," Hikari explained. "It can then be removed again easily, put to sleep again."

Jun was silent, her mind churning this new information over a few times.

"I will tell you now, as I have already told him," Hikari said, getting to her feet. "I give you my word that I will not abandon a search for an effective counter spell, to completely break it, and I give you my word as well that I will never activate it again and I'll do everything I can to keep anyone else from that as well."

Nodding, Jun leaned back in the chair, looking a bit tired. "I can't imagine that you ever would," she confessed, a faint smile appearing briefly.

The sun was beginning to set in the distance. Hikari made her way to the window and peered out at the colors of the sky. "There's something else you should know," she said. "His memory – it is returning, but slowly. In bits and pieces."

"His memory?" Jun sat up again to face Hikari, who sighed heavily and turned around, leaning against the window frame.

"The spell is very complex, very strong. It seeks to destroy the will of the person it holds," she told her. "To do that, it takes the memories of the previous life, so that the slave is not distracted by them. When the spell was laid to rest, so to speak, the memories began to return, but it is a slow process, and he doesn't yet remember very much."

Jun leaned back into her chair again, feeling a pain begin in her head. She massaged her forehead with her fingertips and sighed deeply.

The door opened and the subject of their conversation peered around the doorframe. Catching sight first of Hikari, his face spread into a wide smile and he flung the door open the rest of the way. "I have remembered!" he announced triumphantly. "I remembered something!"

Hikari turned away from the window, and Jun got to her feet. The movement of his sister catching his eye, Daisuke glanced in her direction and then stared for a long moment.

"And you…," he said, his voice lowering in volume. He narrowed his eyes, squinting toward her, then he turned away, shaking his head. "No, it's gone."

Hikari saw Jun stare at him open-mouthed for a long moment, and then she sank back into the chair she had vacated and shut her eyes, appearing tired again.

"What did you remember?" Hikari asked.

* * *

Probably a bit too much exposition here for my taste, but a bit of new stuff. Actually, nothing happens in this chapter. Expect a new one, with stuff hopefully happening, very soon! Thanks for reading! 


	25. Miyako's Encounter

**Enter The Light:**

**Part Twenty Five:** Miyako's Encounter

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie:** Digimon is not mine, which includes all characters, merchandise, etc, blah blah blah. Plot is mine, especially this section, which is entirely of my own creation. Please don't sue or steal yadda yadda yadda. Thanks and have a nice day.

* * *

Miyako had been in a hurry to return to the palace so that she might see her sister again, and so had left Hikari and Daisuke at the dock near the Rusty Plate Inn and begun heading in a different direction all together. Despite her desire for speed, however, she decided to rent a carriage rather than fly, for it had been a long journey across the sea and she and Hawkmon were already tired. The thought of resting leisurely on the comfortable cushions of a carriage while a Monochromon strained with the weight of pulling it was appealing to her. 

"It's almost hard to believe that we spent three weeks on that island," Miyako commented. She sighed, stretching out on the comfortable seat, content to watch the grass and sky go past. "Everything's so much more green and colorful than it was when we left, and yet…."

Hawkmon, settling down on the opposite seat himself, agreed. "The time seemed to go quickly," he said. "I expect it was because of how much you were working and studying, though, and I expect that much has happened on the mainland in the three weeks we were away."

Miyako sighed again. "I don't doubt it. Hikari said that they would probably need me soon, and I daresay she's often right about these sorts of things. "

For a long while there was silence. Hawkmon drifted off to sleep and Miyako lazily watched the scenery outside her window as the carriage rolled onward through plains of endless grass along dusty dirt roads. The grass was green and high, and fields filled with the beginnings of a healthy crop could be seen in the distance out each side of the carriage. The occasional trees were heavy with blossoms changing into the dark green lush of summer foliage, and here and there a few wild digimon could be spotted enjoying the day and the warm weather.

There was no sound but the gentle whispering of the wind through the grasses and the quiet squeak of the metal wheels beneath as they rotated over the ground. Miyako felt herself drifting to sleep, her eyes growing heavy. She did not sleep long, however, before a loud explosion destroyed the silence and caused the carriage to come to an abrupt halt.

"Wha-?" Hawkmon mumbled sleepily, having been thrown from his nap on to the floor of the carriage. Miyako, too, was catapulted forward when the carriage stopped, but she recovered quickly, picking herself up from the floor and flinging open the carriage door. Another explosion sounded, this time sounding a bit closer than the first one, but she saw nothing of what might have caused it.

A shadow passed overhead, and Miyako glanced upward. A giant green bug digimon with massive wings flew by at top speed, so quickly she could barely make it out.

"What is that?" Hawkmon wanted to know, having sleepily roused himself from the carriage floor, appearing behind his partner with a confused expression.

"I don't know," Miyako began to answer, and then her magical senses became aware of something strange, and another explosion sounded from somewhere nearby. A massive fireball appeared in the grass, blazing to life and dying again in a split second, and then an long serpentine digimon flew overhead in pursuit of the bug. The Airdramon was ridden by a single human figure, a mage by the looks of him.

"Airdramon tamers?" Hawkmon said in disbelief. "What - ?"

"I don't understand it either," his partner told him. "But I think we ought to follow them both."

He nodded in agreement. "It's one way to get to the bottom of things. Let's go, then."

"Digimental up!" Miyako called, and a moment later another flyer had taken to the air, oblivious to the driver's calls behind them.

It had been some time since Miyako had flown, and the warm breeze rushing through her hair and the ground racing below her reminded her again why she adored being above the earth. For a moment, she reveled in the speed and the freedom of it, and then she focused her mind and got down to business.

The bug digimon, what ever it was, was speeding through the air as only a bug could, but the Airdramon, also a sleek flier, was gaining on him, close to overtaking its adversary. Knowing nothing of either digimon, Miyako was uncertain of who she ought to side with, and so she and Holsmon merely followed and watched the chase.

And then there was a strange sensation that was tugging at the back of her mind that didn't yet want to be dealt with, that she couldn't quite understand.

The Airdramon's tamer was most certainly a mage, for Miyako could feel his magic and sense it even without the use of her sight, which showed a glowing dark aura around him that greatly intensified each time he cast a fireball of a spell, a formidable attack Miyako was quite certain she did not want to feel the brunt of.

The mage himself was skilled, but his magic seemed to be weak, at least by the standards Miyako was comparing it to (which were, admittedly, a bit unfair as she had spent the last three weeks in the company of very powerful mages on an island devoted to the study of magic).

At any rate, her attempts at objectivity and neutrality were entirely abandoned when the Airdramon and its rider noticed her and decided to attack, abandoning their pursuit of the insect digimon and veering toward her. Miyako could easily see and sense that the tamer was preparing himself for a magical attack – his aura grew stronger, she could see that he was mumbling to himself even though she could not hear the words, and she could feel the concentration of magic in the air. Having anticipated the attack, she was easily able to raise a shield before a fireball appeared in mid air, and Holsmon easily dodged the attack so that it scorched nothing, burning harmlessly on the outside of the shield and sparing her from feeling so much as a bit of warmth.

She could hear the other mage shouting his frustration, and then his Airdramon reared up and flew directly toward her at top speed. Holsmon easily flew higher, out of reach, and Miyako prepared herself to raise another shield quickly.

"Well, that answers the question of who the bad guy is," she commented, holding tightly to her partner's feathers as they quickly evaded the serpentine digimon's attacks.

"It doesn't explain much else though," Holsmon returned. "What's he attacking _us_ for? Why was he attacking that creature in the first place?"

"And what _is_ he?" Miyako continued. She tried to look around, to see where the bug digimon had gone to, but was immediately distracted from her search by the attacking Airdramon flying directly toward her, screeching loudly.

"Spiking Finish!" came a shout from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, and then the green bug digimon was there, between Miyako and the Airdramon, attacking like a vicious green blur so quickly she could barely see him as a solid creature.

The mage tamer who had been riding atop the Airdramon screamed – perhaps in pain, perhaps in anger, perhaps in something else entirely – and dropped to the ground. Miyako could not clearly tell if he had fallen or jumped.

The Airdramon screeched in pain and flew off into the sky, becoming a dot in the distance before too long. Holsmon landed on the ground, but before Miyako could reach the fallen mage, he disappeared in a massive fireball and she was alone in the midst of the plains, tall grass around her, enemies departed.

Holsmon de-evolved and approached the spot where the mage had last stood, but there was nothing there save a few scorched grasses. Miyako could see the magic he'd left behind, but it was fading fast.

"Well," she said into the silence. The wind blew gently past.

The green bug digimon landed in the grass beside her, was surrounded by a white light, and reappeared as a familiar-looking small digimon.

For a moment, Miyako stared, and then she managed to speak: "Wormmon?"

"Hello," the small green caterpillar replied cheerfully, glancing around him in the tall grass. "Thanks for your help."

"Help?" Miyako echoed blankly, then came to her senses. "Why was that thing chasing you? Why did he start chasing me? How long have you been able to evolve…." She had so many questions she didn't even know where to begin, and so left off, giving him a chance to answer in case he did.

Wormmon blinked his large blue eyes. "Ken will be here in a moment," he said, answering the one question she had most wanted the answer to and yet had dared not ask.

He appeared as promised, on the horizon a few moments later, his head barely visible above the grass. Miyako could only watch in stunned silence as he grew closer and more in focus.

Long gone was the thick, powerful, dark aura that had surrounded him before. He was clear of magic and darkness, and yet something remained. Though she _saw_ nothing of magic, Miyako was certain that she could still _feel_ it. It was not the same, and yet it still was Ken.

When he had come within speaking distance, they both stood, staring at each other, searching for words perhaps. After a long moment, Ken shook his head slowly. "You shouldn't have interfered," he said.

Miyako blinked a few times and turned away from him, folding her arms. "Interfered?" she repeated, turning her head back to face him. "I – you – they interfered with my journey!"

"Oh dear," Wormmon said.

Hawkmon shook his head. "You shouldn't make her angry," he advised Ken. "She's rather dangerous when she's angry."

There was a long silence. Ken said nothing, only turned his head upward to face the sky. "So am I," he finally said.

"Ken…." Wormmon interjected slowly.

His partner shrugged lightly, as though nothing of great importance had passed. "We don't have time for this," he said instead.

The anger having faded from her expression, Miyako turned back to face him. "Who was that?" she wanted to know. "Why was he chasing you? And me?"

Ken shrugged again. "You're Chosen," he answered. "I believe that was enough for him."

"Who was he?"

"I don't know."

Miyako waited a long moment. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. There was so much more she wanted to know but wasn't quite sure how to ask. If Daisuke had been there, she thought, he would have asked anyway, even if the questions didn't get any answers, but she couldn't.

"You have been away," Ken said then, and she opened her eyes, nodding. "There have been attacks lately upon the villages in connection with the Chosen. Tachikawa, Ishida, Takenouchi-Inoue."

_This is it,_ Miyako thought, remembering Hikari's words. "Why?"

"I don't know," he repeated. "There's a digimon, actually two of them, who look and seem human and lead the attacks on the villages. I don't think they're working alone, though."

"Why are they attacking the villages?" Miyako wondered, her brain having cleared away from the shock of the information she'd been given, now focused on trying to obtain more. "Do they want something? Someone?"

"They want something. I don't know what."

"And that Airdramon and his tamer? They were working for the digimon who attack the villages?"

"Possibly." He sighed, turning his head and looking out across the plains, his eyes focused on everything and nothing in particular. "I doubt it though." He shrugged again. "Come on, Wormmon."

"Coming," Wormmon answered, scuttling through the tall grass.

"Wait," Miyako interrupted, but he was already walking away, already close to being swallowed in the grasses. "Who do you think they're working for? What could they want?"

"You've a better idea of that than me," he called back over his shoulder, not turning around, not halting his steps. "Stay out of danger, and out of my way."

Miyako stared blankly after him, watching him go, watching as he grew smaller and smaller and then was once again a blur on the horizon, and then gone from sight as though he had never been there.

"Attacks," Hawkmon repeated. "On villages."

"On _our_ village," Miyako finished, finally turning away from the horizon and Ken's departing figure. "Why? There's nothing there any digimon could want – is there?"

"Aside from an inn or some food at the market, no," her partner agreed. "So why destroy it?"

"Maybe they're looking for something," Miyako suggested. "Or maybe they're just distracting us from something else." She glanced back toward where Ken had disappeared from view. "Maybe they're working for Demon."

"It seems likely," he consented. After a moment of thought, he added, "Do you suppose that's why Ken's so interested in them?"

"…For some sort of revenge? But why? He hasn't got enough power to destroy Demon, does he?"

"I don't know."

"I don't think he does," she said, but with doubt in her voice. "I don't _see_ magic on him, and yet….I still _feel_ it. Different, but still the same."

They began walking in silence, back in the direction of the road from whence they'd come, each lost in different thoughts. The silence had returned to the plains, and the only sound was of their crunching footsteps on the dirt and the rustle of grasses in the breeze.

It was not long before the grasses parted and the dirt road was visible, yet there was no sign of any vehicles of any sort. Miyako looked both ways up and down the long, straight corridor through the fields, and saw no sign of the carriage she and Hawkmon had left. Although she felt thankful that she had not left anything of great value in the carriage, Miyako was nonetheless annoyed that the driver had decided to leave.

"It seems we'll have to walk a bit of the way," Hawkmon noted. He took to the air for a bit, flying above the grasses, where his vision was no longer obstructed. "Thankfully, I see a village not too far away. We won't have to camp out here for the night."

"Thank goodness for that," Miyako said, sighing. "I look forward to a nice long rest."

* * *

The sun had completely set, and the night was beginning to set in. Most of the house's inhabitants had settled in for the evening, and a quiet calm had settled over the grounds. Carrying a single candle that flickered in the darkness, Jun left the house by way of the kitchen and wandered to the small garden. She was not surprised to find her brother seated in a bench, eyes on the flowers, mind elsewhere. 

He didn't notice when she approached, didn't look up at the sound of her footfalls on the grass, and started when she sat beside him, getting to his feet.

"It's only me," Jun told him, though she wasn't sure what comfort that would offer him if he had no memory of her. "I'm sorry if I've disturbed you. Please, stay."

In the dim light, his expression was not easy to see, but he appeared to be a little bit nervous when he sat, and his eyes didn't move from her. After a moment, they narrowed as if in thought. "I remembered you before - ," he said, hesitantly.

"Yes, so you said," she answered, setting the candleholder safely on the bench beside her. "And you remembered our mother."

He nodded, slowly, finally moving his gaze from her face, turning to see the dim shadow of flowers beginning to bloom in the garden. "She used to like this garden, didn't she?"

"Yes," Jun said again. "She used to spend a lot of time here, tending the flowers. I think – I think it was because Father didn't want her to exhaust herself, and she didn't want to stay in bed."

There was a long silence. Distantly, the sounds of conversations between the servants drifted through the night air from the kitchen. A gentle breeze rustled the treetops and a few blossoms sprinkled to the ground, unseen in the darkness. The air was sweet with the scent of flowers and dirt.

"I've always loved the smell of spring," she commented then, inhaling deeply and breathing contentedly in the air. "It's so sweet and beautiful, full of flowers."

"You loved the grass," Daisuke said after a moment. He was staring fixedly at a tree a short distance in front of him, from which blossoms were cascading like gray blobs in the night air. The statement seemed to surprise him as much as Jun, and neither of them spoke for a few heartbeats.

"The grass?" Jun echoed.

He was quiet again, an expression of thought on his face now, a deep frown. "I remember. There was a hill – and in the summer, it was covered with soft grass and you laid down in the grass and rolled down the hill." He paused briefly, and then looked toward her with a mischievous smile. "She yelled at you for that. It was a new dress, I think. It was fun, though."

Jun stared, her mouth open wide, her eyes wide. "I – I can't believe you remembered that," she said, and then shook her head as though to clear her mind. "That was a long time ago."

"Hmm," was all he had to answer, but the grin was replaced with a quiet smile. Daisuke leaned back on the bench and looked upward at the stars blinking in the clear night and felt the gentle breeze.

* * *

In the mid-morning, Miyako returned to the palace, having spent the evening in a village inn and flown in as soon as possible. Her mind was full of questions and she hadn't slept as well as she would have liked to. She was tired, her head pounding by the time she reached her destination. 

Iori was the first person she saw when she'd landed, waiting for her on the grounds. He did not seem surprised to see her, which did not particularly surprise Miyako. Having de-evolved, Hawkmon followed her.

"Returned from your trip, have you?" Iori greeted, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know how he does it."

"I'm not quite sure either," Miyako answered, smiling a greeting. "I guess he already knows where Hikari's gone, and that's why you haven't asked?"

"I don't know if he knows that much," he replied, shrugging lightly. Together, they began to walk towards the castle. "He only said that you'd be arriving alone. There's a lot to tell you." Pausing slightly, Iori raised one eyebrow in her direction. "Do you have a lot to tell us?"

Miyako sighed. "Not that much, I don't think," she confessed. "I don't understand much of anything yet. I need to piece things together."

"Nothing serious," Sora assured her. Tired and hungry, Miyako had chosen to eat before doing much else, and Sora had decided to join her. Thanks to Ken, she was not surprised about Sora's information that her village had been one of those attacks, yet she wanted more information. "They tore a path right through the town square, smashing homes and business, but nothing that can't be rebuilt. Your father began the rebuilding almost immediately."

Miyako nodded absently, stuffing another bite of food in her mouth. She swallowed and paused eating long enough to comment, "Thought he might. But what did they want?"

"I don't know," Sora answered. Since she was not as famished as Miyako, she was taking her time eating, and pausing to speak complete sentences between bites. "I overheard them saying something about crystals, and Koushiro says crystals are used in magic – but we can't figure out why they would need to smash villages in order to get them."

"Crystals?" Miyako repeated, having swallowed. She took another bite.

"Koushiro says they're often used in magic spells, and there's a theory that enough crystals could open a portal to another world."

Miyako swallowed too large of a mouthful and coughed a few times before she was able to say, hoarsely, "Another world?" She gulped down some water and then said, more clearly. "Like the shadow world?"

Sora nodded, having calmly taken a small bite and swallowed while Miyako had choked. "That's Koushiro's theory, too. Taichi thinks they want to bring an army here." She frowned, and took another bite.

Having taken a long swallow of water, Miyako was quiet for a few moments as she cautiously took another bite of her food and chewed a bit more slowly than before. "Maybe," she said when she'd finished. "Or maybe only one digimon."

"Only one?" Sora echoed. "Which one - ?"

* * *

So, more questions raised than answered, it seems. Daisuke's making headway with his memories, and Miyako's met up with Ken again, although it didn't seem to be a cheerful, happy sort of reunion. Ah, well. 

Coming soon, expect a battle (or at least the lead-up to a battle) and, um, lots of other stuff. In the future there will be an entire chapter almost exclusively devoted to Iori, which I've never done before, so that'll be a lot of fun, and then, um…more stuff. I'm not going to give away anything else yet.

This story might just never end. I keep writing and writing and I don't feel like I'm any closer to a conclusion. Stay tuned:-)


	26. This Way Comes

**Enter The Light**

**Part Twenty Six: **This Way Comes

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie:** Digimon is not mine. I make no money from the creation of this story. The plot, however, is (mostly) all mine. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to moo.

Moo.

* * *

Hikari awoke in mid-morning, having dreamt of epic battles and thousands of monsters and a swirling black sky. She opened her eyes to bright sunlight streaming past heavy curtains and wondered if this dream was a portent of things to come, a memory of the past, or a reflection of her own inner fears.

"Maybe all three," she said aloud, getting out of bed. The dream and its fleeting images were slowly disappearing from her memory, but she held on to the thought of it through the rest of the morning.

Mid-afternoon found her in the gardens, still preoccupied with the previous night's dreams, meditating amidst the flowers and the swirling blossoms in the air. Though she'd spent three weeks on the Sanctuary Island, and she'd gone there to learn about magic, Hikari realized that she still knew precious little about what she could do or how to do it. Still, she thought that a bit of focus might help.

* * *

Jun and Daisuke had gone walking somewhere with the hope that seeing more of his home would help to awaken more of his memories. They returned to the garden in the late afternoon to find Hikari still there, eyes shut, an expression of concentration and concern on her face. Tailmon was asleep near her partner's feet, snoring lightly.

"Hikari?" Jun asked hesitantly, taking a seat on the bench beside her. Knowing little of magic or the ways of meditation, she was not certain whether it would be wise to interrupt. She glanced hesitantly toward her brother, but if Daisuke had ever known he had forgotten, for he returned her look of confusion with one of his own.

"I don't want to leave her here," Jun explained. "It'll be dark before long, and cold. It seems…unsafe."

He shrugged helplessly, his own face now an expression of concentration and concern which his sister recognized as an attempt to remember something from the past. "It does…," he finally agreed, but had nothing more to say.

"What do you suppose she's doing?" Jun's partner Alraumon wondered, resting her chin on the armrest of the bench, her green eyes wide.

"Seeing something," Daisuke answered almost immediately. Both Jun and Alraumon glanced toward him in surprise, but he appeared more certain of this statement than he had been of anything since he'd returned home.

"What do you suppose she's seeing, then?" Alraumon asked.

His frown, which had been present for some time, grew deeper now, and he began to look more unsettled, stuffing his hands into nonexistent pockets for a moment before giving up and folding his arms at his chest instead. His eyes, narrowed in thought, did not leave Hikari's face, and for a moment it seemed to Jun as though he was trying to see through her and inside of her head, and he seemed to be so intent upon this that Jun almost expected him to produce a definitive answer.

Before he _could_ answer, however, Tailmon yawned loudly and opened her big blue eyes. Almost immediately after this, Hikari opened her own eyes, blinking in the dimming yet still bright sun and looking around her.

"Are you all right?" Jun asked, and Hikari turned to face her, blinking a few moments as though trying to focus on what she was seeing.

Then she looked down at her hands, around at where she was. "I think so," she said, her eyes focusing on a few flowers in the garden. She got to her feet, brushing off her skirt as she did so. "How far is it to the village?" she asked then.

Jun raised one eyebrow in surprise. "The village?" she echoed. "Not far, I suppose…just down the hill…."

"If we walked, could we get there before dark?"

"I think so," Jun answered. "Why do you want to go to the village?" She glanced toward her brother, in hopes that Daisuke could offer some sort of explanation for this, but he appeared to be just as clueless, if not more so.

"I'm not sure yet." She was quiet for along moment, glancing in the direction of the town in question. From the higher levels of the house, it would be possible to see the roofs of buildings, but in the garden there were too many trees blocking the view. "I think that something's coming."

"What sort of something?" Daisuke wanted to know.

"A bad sort of something."

* * *

"So then they're both digimon." Sora concluded. "I wonder if he knows that…."

"Possible," Piyomon commented. "When's he been one to tell all he knows?"

"He who?" Miyako wondered.

The Chosen had gathered once more in a small parlor, now that Miyako had finished eating and bathing and felt more well rested. Miyako told the others the information that she'd managed to gain from Ken, though she was disappointed to hear that none of the others had heard of or from him while she was gone. Now, however, she was hoping to have the missing information filled in.

"The Dark Bandit," Sora explained. "He was in our village just before the attack, and after, too. I followed the army of digimon when they left the town square, and I saw the bandaged digimon as he put on a coat and hat and looked human. There was a woman with him that appeared from nowhere and caused his army to vanish. They argued with each other for a bit, and he called her 'sister.' When I mentioned it to the Dark Bandit afterward he asked if she'd been wearing red, but he never explained why he asked. I wonder if he knows that she's not human either."

"The Dark Bandit?" Miyako's eyes had become wider than seemed possible, and for a long moment she was incapable of speech. "A-are you certain of that?" She glanced toward Hawkmon, who had a similarly astonished expression.

"I believe I know what he looks like, Miyako," Sora returned, puzzled by the reaction. "He seemed the same as before…."

"The same?" Miyako echoed dully. She glanced toward Hawkmon again, and he returned her gaze. Then, she shook her head and sighed deeply.

There was a moment of silence but Miyako didn't seem inclined to pass on whatever was on her mind, and so the conversation went to another topic.

"There's been no reported sightings since the last attack at Ishida," Iori stated. "I sent messages to each one of the Lords _and_ the village magistrates, asking them to inform us if there's been any word of attacks, and all sent replies saying that they'd seen nothing of the sort but would be happy to comply."

"There seems to be great destruction each time they wander through," Yamato noted, having spent a great deal of time in Tachikawa compiling reports and then having spent a great deal of time listening to his brother's reports on Ishida and Sora's memories of Takenouchi-Inoue. "Each time, the evidence is of a huge army wandering through, and yet very little fighting. Most of the villagers involved report running for safety and those who did reached safety – the army didn't track down the stragglers or even seem interested in taking lives."

"All the attacks took place near sundown, too," Takeru pointed out.

"Yes," Mimi agreed. "That's why the damage was so heavy in Tachikawa – forty five dead, the highest number." She paused for a moment, frowning, before continuing. "The attack was just after dark, which meant that the villagers didn't realize they were in danger until it was too late to escape, and those who did escape barely did so."

"A lot more wounded in the mines at Ishida," Takeru reported, shaking his head in disgust, "but miraculously, only twelve dead. Nearly two hundred with minor and serious injuries. I still don't know how they all escaped – luck, I suppose."

"And only a few minor injuries at Takenouchi-Inoue," Yamato concluded, with a nod toward Sora in acknowledgement of her work. "None dead."

"There's got to be some sort of pattern to these," Taichi said, an expression of deep thought on his face now. "Tachikawa is far north – nearly two days from here, and Ishida is far south – nearly two days in the opposite direction."

"If all the villages have to do with the Chosen and where we have come from, then perhaps we have only to look at where has _not_ yet been attacked – one of those must be next," Iori stated pragmatically.

There was a moment of quiet as everyone considered their options. "The places that have not yet been attacked," Koushiro said aloud, thinking to himself. He removed a scrap of paper from somewhere in the bag of books and other materials he nearly always carried with him, and then a pen and ink. Quickly, he began to scribble the names of all twelve Chosen on the page.

"Takeru and Yamato both hail from Ishida," he noted, marking a check beside them as he wrote.

"Yes," Takeru agreed, interrupting. "And yet, I think it might be wise to included Takaishi on there."

"Mother's parents' home?" Yamato asked, frowning toward his brother.

Takeru nodded. "You might not have many memories of it, but I spent a great deal of time there as a child, remember?"

"We did," Patamon piped up. "Much time in Takaishi."

"Very well then," Koushiro said, making the adjustment. "Takenouchi-Inoue has already been attacked, as we know, and thus Miyako and Sora have been spoken for."

"As have I," Mimi put in, and the wizard scribbled in Tachikawa on the page.

"I daresay we've little chance of the palace being attacked directly," Koushiro continued, "and so I won't bother to add you or Hikari."

"For the moment, I suppose we're safe here," Taichi said with a sigh. "There's no reason to assume they won't attack the village around us, though."

"True," Koushiro conceded, and added in both Taichi and Hikari and the village Yagami. "Now. Who's remaining?"

"I've not been there in years," Jyou reported with a thoughtful expression, "but it might be wise to return to Kido soon."

"A trip home?" Gomamon asked. "I love travel."

"I don't know what's left of my village," Iori put in, a solemn expression on his face. He glanced toward Armadimon, who was frowning as well. "It's been a long time since I was home. I haven't any family left there, and it hasn't got my name, so I don't know if it would be of any interest to whatever's behind these attacks."

"You're Chosen as well, Iori, and thus of interest, I should think," Koushiro answered, having scribbled in Kido. "I shall put it down nonetheless."

"And what about you, Koushiro?" Mimi asked. "From what village do you hail?"

Koushiro shook his head. "I haven't any memory of it," he answered. "I've lived here for as long as I recall."

"So what remains?" Sora wondered. "Ichijouji?"

"It certainly bears writing in," Koushiro agreed. "And then let us not forget Motomiya…."

* * *

The sun was nearly set by the time they'd reached the village, and there was a chill in the air. Hikari had taken a thin cloak and wrapped it over both her and Tailmon, and now she pulled it tight around her.

"Any sign of anything strange yet?" Jun asked.

They stood at the entrance to the village. Before them was the town square, filled with villagers hurrying about their business and merchants closing up their shops. Travelers who wandered through the town sought out the inns for the night and those who made their living dishonestly – and there were a great deal of those in this village – began their nightly wanderings.

"So far, everything looks as it always does," Alraumon answered.

Hikari raised the lantern she'd brought up to her eyes and looked around. "It looks much the same as it did the last time I was here," she admitted. "Perhaps I was wrong."

"Or perhaps the danger has not come yet," Tailmon pointed out, scolding her partner. "Be patient!"

"Do you…_feel_…anything strange?" Daisuke wondered. Hikari fell silent, lost in thoughts. For a while, she said nothing.

Jun entered the village square, a warm cloak and hood of her own pulled up to guard against the chill, and began to wander through the marketplace as it closed, glancing through the shop windows and admiring a few stands of fruit. A cool breeze darted through the square, swinging the wooden signs and banners of the shops and rustling her skirts.

"Awfully cold for so late in spring," Alraumon commented, shivering, staying close to her partner. "I wonder if this means a storm is coming?" She glanced upward and saw a few clouds gathering in the night sky, but nothing overtly threatening of rain.

"I hope not," Jun said. "I don't want to be caught out here in the rain at night. I wonder what we're looking for." She sighed and turned to wander back toward where she had left the others, not far away.

There was no one there.

* * *

"Damn," Miyako mumbled under her breath, just quiet enough not to be heard. Taichi must have had a similar thought, because his thoughtful expression was suddenly replaced by a frustrated scowl.

"You don't suppose - ?" Sora questioned, noticing his expression.

Before anyone could say anything further, Miyako got to her feet. "I'll go," she volunteered. "I'll leave right now, and I can be there in a few hours."

"It'll be after dark," Koushiro pointed out.

"Can you fly any faster?" she demanded, turning to him. He shook his head.

"The fastest anyone could get there would be in a few hours," Yamato pointed out. "Even if we sent the speediest Piyomon we know, it would still be a few hours, an hour or two too late to reach Motomiya. There's no certainty they'll attack tonight – just because it's the first thing we think of doesn't mean that village is in danger now…."

"No," Taichi said, shaking his head. He, too, had gotten to his feet, and was scowling ever deeper. He ran a hand through his hair. "No, it'll be tonight, I'm sure of it."

"And they don't know anything about it," Miyako put in.

Iori shook his head. "Lord Motomiya got the message I sent out to the rest of the kingdom," he pointed out. "He's well aware of the problem."

"He doesn't know _his_ village is at risk, does he?" Miyako returned. "You didn't tell him that the attacks were connected to the Chosen, did you? Hikari and Daisuke know nothing about it, either. And while they've stuck to a pattern of destroying the villages and moving on, what if they don't this time? What if, because there are two Chosen defenseless nearby, they decide to attack them?"

"Not completely defenseless, I'm sure," Takeru put in cautiously, but Miyako shook her head.

"Do you suppose Hikari could defeat an army by herself?" she asked. "I don't think she could, not that she's not powerful, but an army? I daresay that's beyond her scope. And Daisuke…." She shook her head. "I'll go. Right now."

Taichi was frowning deeper than ever now, so deeply that it looked as though the frown would run down off his chin and into the floor. He was quiet a long moment, and then he nodded, once.

"Not alone!" Takeru protested. "I'll go too. What's the addition of one to stop an army? I'll go."

Yamato let out an audible sigh of frustration. "Go then," he said before Taichi could make any sort of sign of disapproval or approval. "Both of you. Not that it will do much good, as it'll be dark before you arrive, but go if you must."

* * *

They'd left the village, leaving Jun behind, heading southward. The breeze was growing stronger now, and the sky darker. Hikari held the candle at an arm's length, lighting the path ahead of her. Beyond the village, there was nothing but grassland and a few scattered farms. It grew slowly colder, and Hikari pulled the hood of her cloak over her eyes.

"Where are we going?" Daisuke wanted to know, hurrying quickly behind her so that he might see in the dim light, but Hikari didn't answer, only walked faster and faster until they'd reached the edge of the river stream and then she paused.

The water was floating gently past, the sound of it a gentle calm. Hikari looked down at it and saw a few fish in the stream. Something was nearby. "It won't be long now," she said.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Daisuke ventured to ask. Hikari turned to face him, holding up the lantern to see his face more clearly. She peered at him with a scrutinizing glance for such a long time that he began to feel a bit nervous.

"There's something coming this way, quickly," she replied. "Do you want to see that village destroyed and all those people killed?"

He appeared alarmed by this statement. "Killed? I…no."

"Neither do I," she answered. "Therefore, I'm staying here, and trying to stop it."

"Stop it? How? And what is it?"

"I don't know," Hikari said, rummaging in the pocket of her skirt and removing a small blue box. She held it in her hand for a moment and then held it out to him. "This is yours. Take it. I think…I am almost certain that you will need it tonight. I have held on to it for too long. "

If she had expected him to ask more questions, then she was surprised, because Daisuke only took the box from her hand without another word and nodded as though he understood everything she had said.

The air was cold, and growing colder. A sudden gust of cold air sent shivers down spines. Hikari wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "It won't be long now," she said, closing her eyes against the strong breeze.

She could feel, somehow, something bending in the air itself, something coming closer, something dark and evil….

"Is that what's coming that you want to stop?" Daisuke questioned, pointing. Hikari opened her eyes and followed his gaze to across the empty plains, and saw that a group of various sized dark shapes had appeared from nowhere and were beginning to move closer.

"Looks like it," Tailmon noted, jumping down from her partner's arms. "Shall we go?"

"Not yet," Hikari answered. "Wait…."

"Wait?" Daisuke echoed. "Wait for what?"

Suddenly, the night became day and the grasslands became a sea of fire. The tall grasses and the small shoots of the crops in the farms caught fire almost all at once, and a massive wall of flames appeared between them and the intruders.

Almost immediately, the fire spread in two directions, forming a wall between the village and the river that formed a border with the Eastern Forests, and then a wall that blocked the road leading back up the hill, the direction they had come. It spread further, blocking the road leading north.

"It's circled the village," Tailmon realized, spying the fire with her keen eyes even through the village streets. "They've trapped everyone inside."

"So there's no escape, then," Hikari concluded. "We fight and stop this army or else."

* * *

Still no sign of an ending to this, so stay tuned!

Next part, arriving soon: The battle, obviously. V-mon's return, and, um, stuff. Expect lots of coming excitement, some of which will eventually involve Iori. Wow.


	27. The Mummy's Spectacle

**Enter The Light**

**Part Twenty-Seven: **The Mummy's Spectacle

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie:** _Digimon_ is not mine, the plot is. There. Now, read and enjoy.

* * *

The sun had gone down and Miyako and Takeru were flying by the light of the moon and stars overhead, flying with all speed despite the limited visibility.

"How much farther, do you think?" Miyako shouted to her partner over the sound of the wind roaring in her ears. It was cold for a spring night, colder when flying high in the sky with the wind rushing past her, even with a cloak wrapped tightly round her, the hood pulled over her eyes to shield her face.

"Not too much farther, I think," Holsmon replied. "Hard to tell in the darkness."

"How will we know when we're there?" she wondered. As if in response to her question, she suddenly was able to make out the sound of her digivice informing her of the presence of other Chosen. She was not surprised to make out four blinking dots glowing in the middle of the box. "Ken must be nearby too," she realized.

"I think I see something!" Takeru called, and she was able to hear his words as Holsmon slowed to a less blinding speed. "Down there!" He pointed with one arm, a shadowy shape Miyako could just barely see in the darkness.

"The village?"

It wasn't the village – or rather, it was not the village which caught her eye, and which had caught Takeru's attention, though it was certainly below them. Instead, it was a glowing, blazing circle of flames that surrounded the small town on all four sides, cutting off all possible exits. The villagers appeared to be becoming aware of their predicament, for they were beginning to gather in the square in a large crowd.

"Looks like we're here," Miyako noted. Holsmon began to fly closer, preparing to land.

"Do you have anyway to douse the flames?" Takeru questioned when they were safely on the ground, just outside the fire. "You managed to put out the fire once in the forest, before the cabin was destroyed."

"The water spell," she remembered, nodding. "I don't know if that would work here. These are not ordinary flames."

"What? You mean the Tyrannomon didn't make the fires?" Patamon asked, having de-evolved, now resting on his partner's head.

Miyako shook her head. "No. I see dark magic in these flames, and lots of it. They're not going to be doused by a bit of water. I'm guessing that, digimon or not, that sorceress Sora saw is behind this."

"Do you think it would be worth it to try?" Hawkmon asked. "Or is there another spell that might work?"

* * *

For a moment, the light of the fire paled in comparison to another light that flashed suddenly, just beyond the village but within the circle of flames. Over the sounds of panic and confusion in the village, Jun could just make out the sound of a single voice calling out: "Tailmon evolve! Angewomon!"

The sound of Tailmon's evolution told Jun that danger was most certainly approaching, but the villagers hadn't needed any further warning than the flames. Chaos was ensuing. Many of the townspeople were gathering in the village square, nervously talking among themselves, but others had locked themselves inside their homes, and others were running around frantically, moaning loudly and wondering what was to become of them.

"What should we do?" Alraumon questioned twice, having to repeat herself over the sound of the commotion around them.

"I would like to go home," Jun confessed, "but I don't think that's going to be possible without being seriously burned. Let's try and find Daisuke and Hikari…."

"And head directly into the source of the danger?" her partner asked, disbelieving. It was plain she did not think this was the best course of action.

"We're no better here than there," Jun told her. "I daresay I'd feel safer closer to them than here in the open." She'd already begun walking in the direction they'd heard the evolution in, and it was with some reluctance that Alraumon followed her partner.

* * *

It was plain to see that, as powerful as Angewomon might be, she would not be able to defeat the approaching enemies without great help. There were dozens of Lopmon, another dozen Tyrannomon, several Mammothmon and Monochromon, and a few flying Airdramon to complete the army that spread out before them, just beyond the flames. At the lead of them all was a tall, thin man dressed in long blue overcoat and a tall hat of the same color, leaning heavily on a walking stick.

"Who is that?" Daisuke wondered, but Hikari only shook her head.

"I don't know, but if he's caused the fires and brought that army here he's certainly not my friend," she decided. Turning to her partner, she said: "Go. I'll do what I can to keep these people safe. I know you're strong, but you can't beat all of them. Just do what you can, all right?"

"Right," Angewomon responded, and was gone, flying off.

Hikari turned back to Daisuke and the village beyond. "I know your memory is not what it might have been, but I need your help. Do you remember any thing underground in the village – some sort of storm shelter?"

He was quiet for a moment, frowning deeply. "I don't think so," he answered slowly. "The only thing underground was…," he turned to glance toward the eastern side of the river, beyond the flames, "the basement dungeons in the prison, but that's destroyed…and on the other side of the fire."

Hikari frowned deeply. "There has to be something we can do. The flames will keep the villagers here, and we can't divert that army away from them. If only there was a way we could break through the fire, just for a little bit."

* * *

"I'm reluctant to try to use the wind," Miyako admitted. "I'm afraid the flames will fly about and cause more damage. I suppose it's worth it to _try_ that water spell…it's not my best, though…." She frowned in thought and rummaged in the bag she'd brought along for a useful spell book.

"Do you suppose that if I ran fast enough I could make it through the fire?" Takeru wondered, eyeing the flames with a calculating eye.

"You'd be burnt," Patamon told him.

"Don't even think about it," Miyako scolded, pulling a volume from her bag. "I'll try to douse them, if only for a second, and then we'll both dart through. No sense getting burned to a crisp – you'd be no help then."

"You're right," Takeru agreed, shrugging lightly. "Just thought I'd offer up an insane suggestion. Might be necessary as a last resort."

"It's not like running through water," she pointed out. "If the flames catch your hair or clothing, it'll keep burning, even after you're beyond the wall."

"I could roll on the ground," he suggested.

Miyako glanced up from her book, the pages of which she was flipping through quickly, and shook her head. "Just because Daisuke isn't here doesn't mean you have to - ," she began, but then was cut short by a suddenly blinding flash of light.

"An evolution?" Hawkmon wondered aloud, and then his question was answered by the sight of a beautifully glowing humanoid digimon floating above the village, white wings behind her.

"Maybe he is here," Takeru said. "Hikari's here."

"Then let's go help them!" Patamon encouraged.

"I've got it," Miyako declared, having located something in the book. "It's sort of complex, but I think I can do it. A combination of water and the shield spell, which I think I've nearly mastered."

"So – a shield of water?" Takeru concluded. "Do you think you can maintain it long enough for all of us to get through unharmed?"

She was reading quickly, her eyes flickering over the page. "I think so," she mumbled as she read, glancing up only briefly. "Shouldn't be too difficult. I can try."

Any further conversation was interrupted by the sound of a massive explosion from somewhere within the circle of fire. Takeru shielded his face with one arm. "Try quickly, please," he urged.

* * *

"What was that?" Jun wondered, hearing an explosion, but her question was quickly answered by the sound of a Tyrannomon roar very near to her face. The heat of fire was present, suddenly overwhelming. Jun thought to run, to duck, to do something to move away from the dinosaur digimon whose massive face was less than an arm's length away from her own. She didn't move, didn't duck, didn't run, didn't hardly breathe. Found only that she couldn't move, could only stare into massive yellow eyes and wait to be burned or crushed or devoured or some horrid combination of all three.

"Jun!" she heard a voice shout from somewhere, distantly. It might have been her partner, it might have been her brother, it might have been someone else entirely. The part of her mind that distinguished it, recognized it, had completely shut off.

The Tyrannomon opened its mouth. Jun could see massive, sharp teeth, and feel its hot breath. If she didn't move, it would all be over.

Suddenly, something or someone grabbed hold of her arm and she was flying through the air – but only a short distance – and then she was on the ground again, landing sharply.

"Look out!" called another voice. Someone grabbed hold of her hand and she was moving, not knowing where she was moving to, aware of only the heat of the Tyrannomon's breath behind her.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The monster was too large, too huge, and there was no where to escape to, to run to. From somewhere, beyond the screaming sensation in her brain, Jun became aware of a repetitive high-pitched noise. Then, she heard a voice shouting.

"V-mon evolve!"

There was an overwhelmingly bright light for a brief moment. Jun felt as though her mind was slowly returning to her body. She could make out her brother only a short distance away, and seeing him clearly made her feel a bit safer. Daisuke was staring past her, watching the light.

"XV-mon!"

The Tyrannomon, nearly forgotten, drew himself up to his full height and opened his mouth, preparing to attack. Again, the air grew hotter, and Jun braced herself. Before anything happened, however, a massive blue lizard-like digimon flew directly at the dinosaur, fists flying.

The Tyrannomon shouted out in pain briefly, tilting backwards, and then regained its balance, roaring his anger out in a blast of fire directed directly toward XV-mon, who spread his wings and flew quickly and effortlessly out of the way.

"Daisuke?" Jun asked, because he didn't seem interested in moving or doing anything, only in staring, eyes wide open, at the battle. "Are you all right?"

Daisuke turned toward her at these words and she could see that his eyes were no longer clouded with confusion, but clearer than she had seen them since his return. He nodded once, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. "You?"

Jun hesitated for a brief moment. There was no real way to answer that question. Still shaking slightly, she brushed some of the dirt from her skirt and tried to take a few deep breaths. "I think so," she finally said. "I'm not used to all this, you know."

Eventually, the Tyrannomon had to pause to take a breath of air in, and when he did, XV-mon took his own shot, spreading his arms. There was a large gray colored X on his chest and when he spread his arms and legs wide in midair, he shouted "X Laser!"

The massive fire breathing dinosaur never stood a chance. From the x-shaped mark on his opponent's chest came a shining bright light of destructive power that blasted through the Tyrannomon. While it cried out in pain, the humans on the ground watched as the dinosaur's skin seemed to peel off, revealing a smooth-black center that crumbled and then deleted into nothingness.

"What _was_ that?" Alraumon gasped. "That was no ordinary deletion – that was no ordinary digimon!"

"What's that?" Jun wondered, a movement off to the side having caught her eyes. She turned and saw, strangely enough, a bubble of water appearing in the center of the flames, with two people and two digimon within. One person was Miyako, obviously in a state of concentration, and the other was Takeru, who was staring with partial amazement and partial fear at the walls of water around him.

"Miyako?" Hikari realized, having seen the bubble of water from a distance and run up to see it closer. "Takeru?"

Having cleared the blaze, the walls of water slowly disappeared, sinking into the ground. Miyako sighed with relief, and Takeru grinned. "Made it," he said cheerfully. "I knew you could do it, Miyako."

Wiping sweat from her brow, Miyako sighed again. "Yeah. No problem. Unfortunately, I don't think I have enough strength to do that again…certainly not long enough to get all the villagers out."

There might have been further conversation, but it was interrupted then by the sound of shouting, and when she turned to see what it was, Jun saw a crowd of angry looking Lopmon of various colors running towards them, shouting loud battle cries.

"Looks like we came just in time," Takeru said cheerfully, grinning. Patamon took to the air, surrounding himself in another bright light.

"Patamon evolve! Angemon!"

Surprisingly, the appearance of Angemon did not halt the advance of the Lopmon, but before he could attack, a dark green blur zoomed past, deleting a row of Lopmon in exactly the same manner as before.

Miyako muttered a curse under her breath, just loud enough for Jun to hear the end of it, and then Angemon had entered the battle.

"Who was that?" Daisuke wanted to know, just barely managing to follow the green blur as it began to pummel the remaining Tyrannomon. It paused in mid-air just long enough to be seen clearly as a bug-like digimon, and then it returned to the battle. "Amazing. He moves fast…. Who?"

"I don't know," Hikari answered. "I don't think I've seen him before…."

"I haven't either," Takeru agreed. "I think Sora and Mimi did, though I don't remember them saying that he'd introduced himself."

"Whoever he is, the help is much welcomed," Jun decided. "Right?" She glanced toward Miyako briefly, noting the strange expression on her face, but was unable to determine what it meant.

"Are you all right?" Hikari asked the young mage. "Did that spell tire you?"

"I'm fine," Miyako answered dismissively.

The sound of another explosion turned all their heads in another direction then, interrupting any further conversation. The tall, thin man in a long blue overcoat and tall hat had slowly limped closer on his cane, directing the rush of Lopmon and Tyrannomon ahead of him. Overhead, a shadow passed over the village, as a few Airdramon circled. Behind him lumbered a few massive Mammothmon and some Monochromon brought up the rear.

The explosion they'd heard was followed immediately by a few dozen more, and then the tall thin man threw off his hat and coat and became something else entirely.

"Not him again!" Hikari said, remembering the bandaged digimon from their previous encounter a few weeks earlier. Miyako groaned, half from frustrated anger, half from simple frustration. "He's behind this?"

"Him, and a sorceress, also a digimon," Takeru told her. "We're pretty sure she's the one who conjured the flames. This isn't the first village they've attacked."

"And it won't be the last, either!" the bandaged digimon shouted, raising what had once been a cane, sending mini explosions in their direction.

"Nobody move," Miyako advised, raising a quickly contrived shield, hoping that it would hold against a repeated onslaught better than it previously had.

"You can't hold against him forever," Takeru reminded her as a thousand or more of the tiny missiles crashed into the invisible barrier.

"I'll hold as long as I can," Miyako retorted, her face contorted in exertion.

"Ah, and then what, eh?" the bandaged digimon retorted. "I can keep this up far longer than you can hold that shield, I wager!"

"Can you?" said a voice from behind him, and then the bug-like digimon was there, connecting a solid punch to the digimon's head, halting the barrage of explosions and sending the bandaged creature flying.

Miyako lowered her shield, casting a grateful look toward the bug digimon. He nodded, and then flew off after the creature.

"I don't suppose you know what he is," Jun said, watching as the bandaged digimon got to his feet and resumed his battle with the bug.

"I don't know what either of them are," Takeru replied, staring in the same direction. "That's not the first time that bug has saved any of us, nor is it the first time that other digimon has attacked. I don't know how the two are connected, either."

"Mummymon," Daisuke said then, speaking as though he was recalling some sort of memory. "He's…"

"Mummymon?" Takeru echoed. "How did you - ?"

"I don't know," Daisuke admitted, scratching the back of his head in thought.

"What about the other one?" Jun asked. "Do you know who _he_ is?"

"No idea," her brother responded, shrugging. "I don't even know how I know who Mummymon is."

"What do you know about him?" Miyako asked.

Daisuke shrugged again. "Um…he's…evil? He works for Demon, I think…but not directly."

"Not directly? So he works for someone who works for Demon? Who?"

"I don't know," Daisuke repeated. "I don't know how I know any of this."

"Yah-ha!" shouted the digimon identified as Mummymon, having gotten to his feet. He began firing his weapon again, sending miniature explosions in every direction, damaging a few of his own Tyrannomon and Mammothmon in the process.

"Get down!" Takeru shouted. Everyone did so immediately, throwing themselves at the ground to avoid the thousands of missiles.

"X-Laser!" came a shout, and then another voice called out "Spiking Finish!"

The explosions stopped and they could hear the sound of Mummymon shouting in pain. Then, a large explosion shook the ground and flung everything backwards.

"You think this is over?" Mummymon demanded. "Far from over! You fools haven't got the power to stop me! Not even close! Fools!"

"Oh, quiet," interrupted a woman's voice, and, looking up, Jun could see that a tall, thin woman with silvery-gray hair, dressed in a red skirt and a red hat had appeared from nowhere and was scolding Mummymon in a bored voice. "They're not impressed by your theatrics, Mummymon."

Mummymon turned toward her, obviously upset by her words. "Talk is cheap," he retorted. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," she answered, shrugging lightly, running a few thin fingers through her hair. "We're leaving." With her free hand, the woman reached out, taking his grimy bandaged arm. With the other hand, she tugged lightly on a strand of her silvery hair and then they were gone.

Instantly, the fire was gone, the Tyrannomon, the Lopmon, the Airdramon, the Monochromon, the Mammothmon…all gone.

The sun was slowly rising, and the village was becoming clear in the morning light. The fire was gone, but it had left a circle of scorched earth around the town. The digimon army was gone, but they had damaged buildings and fields and a few people had been injured – though none seriously.

A few bright lights shone and those who had been battling the invaders had de-evolved and began to make their way towards their partners. Included in their midst was a small blue digimon, blinking confusedly in the sunlight, eyes wide.

"Chibimon!" Daisuke called through the confusion, and the little blue digimon ran toward his partner. After a hug, Chibimon promptly fell to sleep.

"I don't understand," Takeru said as Patamon landed atop his head. "Where - ?" He was interrupted when Hikari poked his arm.

"Later," she said, shaking her head. "I think we all need to get some rest."

"But - ," he protested, looking around. "I don't…."

"We'll figure it all out after we've had some sleep. It's morning, Takeru. We haven't slept. I think anything further can wait until we have the energy to think about it clearly." Hikari yawned once, and then turned toward Jun. "I hope you don't mind if we infringe on your hospitality a little longer."

Jun yawned, shaking her head as she did so. "I need to get some sleep myself," she answered. "You're all perfectly welcome to come back to the house and get some rest. I'm sure my father can take care of cleaning up the rest of this village."

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when Miyako awoke, still tired but much more well rested, to the sound of quiet conversation outside her window and sunlight streaming through the open window. The smell of spring blossoms was heavy in the air, carried on the gentle warm breezes. Breathing deeply, Miyako rose from the bed and made her way to the window.

Hawkmon, also awakening from his rest, settled on the window sill to peer out at the world beyond. "A most interesting experience, last night," he commented. "What do you suppose drew Ken here?"

Miyako sighed, turning away from her view of the gardens. "I suppose he knows something more than I do," she said as she crossed the room, stopping before a mirror and examining her reflection. "Something…. I don't know what."

"Do you think he knows what they're after?" her partner questioned, watching as she finger-combed her hair, flattening down the strands that had chosen to fly away from the rest of her head. She shook her head, frowning at both her reflection and the thoughts inside her head.

"I'd like to suppose that he's been following Mummymon and whoever that sorceress is. He knows about them, knows they're up to no good. I'd like to think that he followed them here because he wants to stop them, too." Most of her hair flattened down, Miyako left her reflection and began to search for her shoes and stockings, which she had abandoned while she slept.

"You'd like to think that," Hawkmon repeated. "And yet, what_ do_ you think?"

Having located both beneath the bed, Miyako sat down and began to pull on the stockings. "I don't know what to think," she answered, pushing back her skirts as she pulled up her left sock. "I thought it might just be some sort of revenge and yet…." She paused, shook her head, grunted as she pulled the end of the sock past her knee. "I didn't think that I'd ever hear of the Dark Bandit again. That doesn't make any sense. I suppose he didn't want Sora to know who he was – but why?"

"Maybe he doesn't feel like answering questions," he answered pointedly. "Maybe because he doesn't have any answers yet."

Miyako shrugged lightly, finishing with her right leg, and began to rummage under the bed for the shoes. "Maybe," she admitted. "Or maybe there's something about Daisuke…."

"You think he's behind this?"

"Not exactly. I don't know if he remembers Ken. When the spell was first…put to sleep…Daisuke told me that he remembered that he and I shared a secret. I don't know if he remembers what that secret _is_ or who it's about or anything about Ken at all. I think, though, that Ken's been looking for _him_."

"In the midst of battle," Hawkmon recalled. "When you first saw him…."

"Right," Miyako answered, pulling her head out from under the bed, dragging both shoes behind her. A few more strands of hair had begun to fly away, and she flattened it down again, sighing. "He said something to Shijo, too, about looking for someone."

"So, maybe he's been looking for Daisuke all this time and that's why he's come back here? Because he's following his memories? Or because he's got some sort of magic still in him…?"

"Maybe," she agreed, having put on her shoes. She returned to the mirror and examined her reflection again, flattening down her hair, smoothing her skirts. Then, she sighed again, shaking her head slightly, feeling suddenly tired again. "I don't know."

* * *

Jun found her brother in the gardens again, lounging on a bench below a tree whose wide branches and blossoms shaded the entire section of the yard. This time, however, his attention was focused on another section of the garden, in which Miyako, Takeru, and Hikari were having a rather animated discussion. They were too far away to be heard clearly, although an occasional word could be heard here or there.

Daisuke was watching the conversation with a frown on his face, but he didn't seem inclined to join in the discussion. Instead, he was lounged on the bench, legs stretched out before him, the newly returned Chibimon sleeping lazily on his lap.

"You're going to leave with them, aren't you?" Jun asked, noting the direction of his gaze. She leaned on the back of the bench with one arm.

"Huh?" he said, starting awake, not having noticed her arrival. He turned, taking his legs from the bench, and then frowned again, shrugging. "I don't know. I feel like I should, but…I feel like I shouldn't."

Jun sat on the section of the bench his legs had vacated and studied him with such an intense gaze that he fidgeted slightly and said: "What?"

Feigning casualness, she shrugged, leaning back against the bench. "Have you seen Father?"

"Mm," he answered, nodding. "This morning."

"And?"

Daisuke frowned deeper than before. "He told me to do what I need to do." He paused a moment, and then said, "The trouble is, I don't know what that is."

Jun watched the blossoms fall from the tree as a gust of wind blew past and scattered them in the wind. She caught a few words from the conversation nearby, but nothing of substance. "What does Hikari say?"

He exhaled deeply. "She says I need to make my own decisions."

"And she's absolutely right!" Jun agreed passionately, sitting up straight and turning to face him. "You've got to do what _you_ want to do, what _you _need to do." He blinked in surprise, and she frowned, reigning in her sudden fervor, leaning back in the chair, trying to go back to a casual sort of demeanor. "What do you want to do?"

Again, Daisuke sighed, frowning. "I don't know," he said, but with such hesitation that Jun opened one eye and glanced toward him. After a moment of further scrutiny he got to his feet, taking the still sleeping Chibimon with him. "I think I sort of want to go back to how things were," he said so quietly that she could hardly hear him.

Jun sat up once more. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded.

He shrugged, looking up through the blossoms of the tree toward the blue sky beyond, suddenly remembering a hundred unrelated memories of his past. "It's easier," he said, still looking upward, "when you don't have anything…. Any decisions to make, any memories to forget or remember, any…anything."

"Daisuke…."

"I'm not saying that's how I want it to be," he clarified, watching a single pink blossom float lazily down through the trees. "Maybe I do. I wanted to remember things, but…." The blossom settled gently onto the grass, amidst a pile of like petals, a sea of pink. He shook his head, turning back to his sister. "I don't know what I want anymore."

* * *

"There's so much I just don't understand," Takeru said. He'd taken a seat on a bench and adopted a frown. "Where _was_ Chibimon this entire time? How did Daisuke know that digimon's name is Mummymon, when we found no mention of him in the books? Why is he not mentioned in the book?"

"Takeru," Hikari said with a sigh, shaking her head. "Leave him be."

"You don't think this is important?" he questioned.

"It's important," she agreed. "Leave him be."

Sulking slightly, Takeru sighed, folding his arms at his chest, sinking down into his seat. "What if whatever happened to him has the answer to … to everything?"

"Forcing it out of him isn't going to help us get any answers," Hikari retorted. "He must remember his memories on his own, and that includes the memories of what happened to him while he was gone. Battering him with questions he doesn't know the answers to won't help, Takeru."

He fell quiet, sighing again. "You're right, I know," he admitted.

"Now what?" Patamon questioned after a few moments of silence had gone by. Takeru was still sulking, Miyako was lost entirely in her own thoughts and had been since she'd awakened, showing no sign of opening up, and Hikari was also someplace else in her mind.

"We came here to do something and we did it," Hawkmon pointed out. "Should we leave, then?"

"What if they attack again?" Patamon asked.

"No, I don't think they will," Hikari said. She'd seated herself on the ground beneath a tree, stretching out her fingers in the cool, soft grass, wishing she could be barefoot in the middle of a green meadow a long way from here.

"They haven't attacked the same place twice, yet," Takeru agreed. He folded his arms behind his head and studied the soft fluffy white clouds in the blue sky above, feeling lazy. "It doesn't seem like they found what they were looking for here, either."

"They could change their minds this time," Tailmon stated.

"They could," Hikari conceded. "And yet, I don't think they will. I don't think there are any powerful crystals around here, or whatever it is you think they might be searching for."

"Powerful crystals…," Takeru echoed, and then sat up. "That's it. If we could find the crystals, we could figure out where they're going to strike next. _Are_ there crystals here at all?"

Every eye turned toward Miyako, who had been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't paid a bit of attention to what was being discussed. She was sitting on a large tree root not far from Hikari, her eyes apparently intent on studying some spot on the ground. When she made no indication that she'd heard, Hikari gently reached over and tapped her on the arm.

"Miyako," Takeru said when she'd come awake, "are you all right? You've been awfully quiet since last night…."

She nodded dismissively. "I'm fine," she said, repeating her words from the previous evening. "What do you need from me?"

"The crystals, Miyako," Hikari said, frowning as though she didn't completely trust the claim of health. "They must have some sort of energy that you can see or sense when nearby…can you, have you sensed anything like that around here?"

She was quiet for such a long time that Takeru began to wonder if she had forgotten the question. He glanced toward Hikari, who once again shook her head in his direction. After what felt like a near eternity, Miyako shook her head.

"I haven't," she answered. "And I don't, right now, but I'm distracted."

"I hadn't noticed," Takeru mumbled under his breath, just quiet enough to not be heard, or at least ignored, by the others. Patamon poked him.

Miyako frowned, getting to her feet. "You can return today, but I'm going to stay here, at least another night. There's something I need to do."

"Something? What sort of something?" Takeru wondered.

"Takeru," Hikari said sharply, and he sighed, leaning back once more against the bench. "Do what you need to," she said to Miyako. "We're not going to leave here until we're certain there's not going to be another attack, and we can only be certain of that if we're certain that there aren't any of these crystals nearby."

Miyako nodded, brushing the dirt of the tree from her skirt. "I'll try tonight to sense them," she said, and turned to leave.

"Miyako," Hikari called. "If you need anything…."

But she was gone already, across the gardens, a flurry of blossoms falling in her wake.

* * *

Yay! Battle's finished. Gosh, that was exciting.

Lots of questions raised, very little answered. Do I have answers to everything? Maybe, maybe not. Stay tuned.

Coming soon: the search for the first crystal. Will they find it? Where is it? How many are there, anyway? Another fun battle. Actually, a bunch of fun battles, and a section devoted to Iori, as promised. Until next time, ja ne.


	28. Iori and the North Village

**Enter The Light**

**Part Twenty Eight:** Iori and the North Village

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie: **_Digimon_ and all related characters, merchandise, royalties, etc are not mine. Sigh. This plotline is, however, so please don't steal, don't sue, and don't forget to moo.

Moo.

* * *

Summer might be coming nearer, but there was a definite chill in the air the further north they went. Iori was used to and grateful for the cold, though he had wisely donned a sweater, but Koushiro was neither and so was shivering slightly in the back of the carriage.

They'd been traveling north for a day now, and the further north they went the colder it became. It was late afternoon, the setting sun bringing the chill of the night, when they finally came to a small village. In the distance, a dark and empty house stood on a hill, showing no signs of life.

"There's no one living up there, is there?" Tentomon questioned, peering through the dark windows of the carriage. "It's dark and scary looking."

"No," Iori answered, shaking his head. "The last Lord of Hida died nearly twenty years ago, and there's been no one to replace him."

"Why hasn't the title been granted to someone else, then?" the bug digimon questioned.

"No one wants it," Armadimon answered glumly. "The manor house is said to be haunted." He grinned darkly and laughed a few times, loudly enough for Koushiro to peer up from his books.

"That's ridiculous," he said, half scolding. "There's no such things as ghosts."

"No, but there's ghost digimon," Iori pointed out. "Bakemon. Lots of them, and they moved in almost as soon as the Lord died."

"Bakemon aren't anything to be afraid of," Koushiro answered, lifting the volume he'd been immersed in once more. "They're frightened of light and warmth – all that would be necessary to do would be to light a fire."

"From what I've heard, they did that," the boy answered. "After the Lord died, the title was to be passed to a niece from the Northern Kingdom. She came south and spent barely a week in the house before she informed the King she had neither use nor desire for the title of Hida, and then she went back home to the North."

"They think the last Lord Hida haunts the manor," Armadimon put in, speaking in his spookiest voice. "No one in the village dares step near it now."

"Ridiculous," Koushiro muttered from behind his book. "Now the village grows poorer and weaker."

The carriage driver opened the door, which creaked on its worn hinges and opened into the village square – or what had once been the village square. Though it had once held a bustling marketplace, most of the shops in the town's center were now shut and quiet, their windows darkened and their doors boarded over. A solitary food stand was at the edge of the street, but although a candle burned brightly in the window, the door didn't look as though it had been opened in quite some time.

"I've looked around, sir, but there don't seem to be any inns left here," the driver said dully when Iori and Koushiro stepped out, the wizard pulling his cloak tightly around him. "I could inquire at some of the houses, see if any of the villagers would put us up…."

"No," Koushiro said, shivering. "There's a perfectly fine building right over there which I'm sure I would be much more interested in staying in than some cramped cottage. If only to prove there are no ghosts there," he added.

"You want to stay in the haunted manor?" Tentomon questioned. "You're braver than I thought."

"Bravery has nothing to do with it," Koushiro returned sharply, turning to reenter the carriage. "I'm cold and tired and I'd rather stay up there."

"Ah, so it's stubbornness then," Armadimon noted, nodding smugly.

"Armadimon, don't anger a wizard," Iori warned his partner. "Are you certain you want to stay in there, Koushiro?" he called after. "It looks rather old and not well maintained."

"I'm sure," Koushiro answered, already back inside the carriage. "I want to get someplace where I can build a fire and warm up a bit."

* * *

The manor had once been a fine building, and the village where Iori had been born had once been a bustling town. Now, though, the streets of the village were empty and the only people who had stayed on were those who were too old or poor to leave. The manor itself was old and worn, the paint peeling, the roof cracked, the gardens overgrown and wild. The front door creaked loudly when Iori pushed it open, and a cloud of dust filled the air, causing everyone to go into a fit of coughing for the moment.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather stay in the village, sir," their driver said, not apparently interested in spending the night in such a place. "I've some friends there, and…."

"And you're a coward," Armadimon muttered low enough to not be heard. Iori nudged him not-so-gently with his foot.

"I'll be back at daybreak," he promised.

"Fine, fine, go," Koushiro muttered, already hefting his bags from the carriage. "I daresay we'll manage without you. Iori…," he tugged with great effort on the handle of a rather heavy back, and it obliged him by nearly toppling him backwards, "Help me with these, would you?"

A short while later the bags were piled atop the steps of the manor and the carriage driver was pulling away, heading for the relative safety (so he thought) of the village below. Koushiro heaved a resigned sigh and glanced inside the building. The entrance hall was dark, but there was no sign of ghosts of any sort.

"It's getting rather late," Iori noted. The sun had almost fully sunk beneath the horizon in the distance. The sky was slowly turning from an orange-tinted blue to completely black.

"Dark, too," Armadimon noticed.

"So, we light a fire," Koushiro declared. "As soon as we find a place to do so." He frowned deeply for a moment and lifted his right hand in the air. After a few seconds, a flame appeared in mid-air, hovering just above his palm. "Let's go," he said, stepping over the threshold and into the house.

The entrance hall was grand, with high ceilings and huge columns. A soft, plush carpet lined the floor, which was once a very shiny wood, now covered with a layer of dust. A cool wind blew through the hall and scattered a bit of it in the air. Koushiro shivered. Iori tried to hold back a sneeze. The door slammed shut in the breeze. Tentomon jumped a few feet in the air and landed atop his partner's head.

"It's only wind," the wizard told him sternly. "Leave the bags here Iori, let's go find some place to warm up and spend the night. Shouldn't be too far…ought to be a sitting room right off this hall with a nice fireplace."

Iori sneezed in the dust, rubbed his eyes and followed after him. The hall extended for some distance, opening into a wide room. Above them was a huge chandelier, covered with dust and a few cobwebs, and the second floor balcony, which could be reached from a wide, curving staircase at the opposite side of the room.

"Whoever the last Lord of Hida was, he certainly had plenty of money," Armadimon noted, looking upwards. Koushiro's magical fire made the crystals of the chandelier sparkle, sending miniature rainbows in every direction. "This place is enormous."

Noting another hall branching off from the first, Koushiro made his way in that direction. Iori followed. "I think that the family fortune of the Lords of Hida was rather substantial," he told his partner, trying to remember details of the history of a lost and forgotten family. "I believe most of it was given to the Lord's niece, even though she chose to go back home to the North. She was, so far as I know, his only heir."

"That's right," Koushiro answered, holding one hand high. They'd come to a doorway and he turned the knob slowly. The hinges of this door squeaked quietly as he pushed open the door to reveal a sitting room.

There were two pieces of furniture remaining in the room, the rest having been either taken by looters or the Lord's niece some twenty years ago. One was a rather dusty and ugly-looking sofa, and the other was a dusty wooden end table that wobbled on three legs beside it. The curtains that had once covered the window – a huge object in itself – were long gone, and the carpet had been taken as well, leaving only the stone floor that had been beneath.

"Not much of a room, but better than nothing," Tentomon remarked. "And look, a fireplace."

"Not much to burn, though," Armadimon noted. "Unless you count that half-broken table."

"Better than nothing," Koushiro decided. "It's worth a start. Anything to warm up."

Iori and Armadimon made short work of the table, which was so old and worn that it was very little effort to dismantle, and then Koushiro transferred the fire in his hand to the small pile of wood and the room brightened.

"I'll see if I can't find any more wood worth burning," Iori volunteered. "That won't last much longer. There's probably some more furniture to be taken apart."

"Good plan," Koushiro agreed. "I'll stay here by the fire."

* * *

They'd brought just enough food to serve as dinner, and there was just enough wood to be found to cook it before they went to sleep, each huddling under blankets on either side of the sofa. Though ugly and dust covered, the couch, when cleaned, was a huge piece of furniture and rather comfortable for sleeping.

Shortly before dawn there was a sudden loud sound that jolted them both awake sharply. Iori took a brief moment to take stock of his surroundings and remember where he was, and then he got to his feet. Koushiro also got to his feet immediately, glancing toward Iori. "Think that might have been an attack already?" Iori wondered.

"If it's not, I don't know what it is," Koushiro replied. He pulled his cloak from the back of the couch and threw both it and his shoes on over his nightclothes. Iori did the same and then they both ran to the front of the manor, flinging open the door with a loud thud.

"Do you see anything?" Armadimon wondered sleepily, having followed his partner.

"I see fire, and I hear lots of shouting," Iori answered. "Sounds like an attack to me. Let's go." Before Koushiro could say a word against it, he was off and running, dashing quickly down the slope of the drive toward the village.

"We should have known this would happen," Iori scolded himself as he ran. "We should have stayed in the village and kept watch over it."

"There was no place to stay in the village," Armadimon reminded him, but Iori seemed not to mind this technicality.

They reached the village seconds before Koushiro, who had somewhat reluctantly hurried down the drive after them, tightly holding his warm cloak around him. They could see several buildings aflame and the tall, dark shadow of a Tyrannomon hovering over the town.

"No where to go!" someone shouted, and Iori caught a brief glimpse of a young, frightened looking man running quickly past them. The smoke from the burning wood was heavy in the air, and the sun was not yet risen, so it was difficult to see.

"Help!" a woman's voice was calling. "Help! Oh, someone help! I can't carry her by myself!"

"Let's go!" Iori called over the noise once again, dashing off into the fog, Armadimon at his heels.

"Iori!" Koushiro called after him, but he was already gone, disappearing into the fog of smoke. He turned toward Tentomon, who was hovering just behind him.

"Should I try to stop that Tyrannomon?" Tentomon questioned, pointing toward the dinosaur digimon overhead.

"Right. Do it. I'll see if I can figure out a way to put out some of these fires," Koushiro agreed, already beginning to perform the hand movements for a water spell.

"Right," his partner agreed. "Tentomon evolve! Kabuterimon!"

* * *

The old woman's voice was coming from a small hut not far away. The roof of the hut was on fire and it didn't seem as though it would be much of a hut much longer. Despite the danger – the building seemed to be about to fall in on her head – the woman was hovering in the doorway. When she spotted Iori and Armadimon coming near, she waved to them. The closer he got, the more able Iori was to see the tracks of recently shed tears on her lined face. Her partner, a rather tired looking Candmon, was trying but mostly failing to either console the woman or get her to move.

"Please help, please," the old woman said, fresh tears appearing on her face. "My granddaughter – she's inside. I can't carry her myself, and she can't walk…."

A section of the roof chose that moment to cave in, and a few sparks showered over them. Iori raised both arms over his head to protect himself. "I'll get her," he told the woman, "you get to safety."

"There's no place safe in this village," the woman moaned, shaking her head. "You're ever so kind, sir, ever so kind."

Iori glanced upward at the sound of a loud thud some distance away and saw that Kabuterimon was flying toward the Tyrannomon, shouting as he did so, "Mega Blaster!"

The Tyrannomon cried out in pain from the attack and blasted a roar of fire back in the direction of the giant bug. Partly relieved, partly overjoyed by the demonstration, Iori glanced again in another direction.

"That way," he told the woman. "Head up the hill to the manor house. It's safe there." When she looked at him as though this was the most insane suggestion possible, he said, "They're not going to attack the house, only the village. Trust me. Head that way. I'll save your granddaughter."

The woman sharply grabbed his arm. "I don't know you. You're not from this village, are you? Who are you?" She pointed toward the sky. "Who's that?"

"That's Kabuterimon," Armadimon told her. "He's the good guy."

"I haven't got time for this," Iori told the old woman, pulling his arm away. "My name is Iori, and that's Kabuterimon. I'm Chosen, and so is his partner, he pointed toward the sky, "who is also a wizard. Do you want me to save your granddaughter before the house falls in or do you want me to stay here and argue with you?"

"Chosen?" the woman echoed, eyes slowly growing wide. Iori didn't wait for any further reaction.

"Go to the big house," he shouted over his shoulder and rushed inside the burning house.

The smoke within was heavy and it was difficult to breathe. Iori felt sweat form on his forehead almost the instant he stepped through the doorway. Belatedly, he realized that he had forgotten to ask the old woman her granddaughter's name or how to find her. "Hello?" he called, and then unintentionally inhaled a lungful of smoke and burst into a fit of coughing.

"This way," Armadimon advised, leaving the kitchen area. Iori glanced up. The ceiling over his head was on fire, and the heat was growing more intense. He held the edge of his cloak over his face to protect him from the smoke and hurried through the doorway into a small bedroom off the kitchen.

A young woman was lying in the bed, looking very pale, sweat beading out on her thin, white face. Like Iori, she had inhaled smoke and was coughing heavily, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled to breathe. She looked as though she had been very pale and weak even before the fire began. When he burst into the room, she looked up, blinking at him through the smoke.

"I'll get you out of here," Iori promised, his voice muffled through the cloak, but before he could say or do anything else there was a cracking noise behind him, then a loud thudding noise. He turned to see that part of the roof in the kitchen had caved in, falling to the ground and destroying most of that room.

"Quickly, please," said the girl's partner, a concerned looking Terriermon that hovered near her pillow. "There's not much time before the entire house caves in."

"That's for sure," Armadimon noted, his eyes nervously on the ceiling, which was not looking much more stable in this room.

The girl seemed interested in trying to thank or to help Iori, but when she tried to speak she was overcome with coughing. She put her arms around his neck and smiled gratefully at him when he lifted her from the bed, surprised to find that she weighed almost nothing. Iori smiled back at her, glad to be of help to someone.

And then the roof fell in over their heads and everything was dark.

For a long moment, there was silence. Iori could feel the girl in his arms, could feel his own heart beating, could feel a heavy weight upon his shoulders. He could see nothing. Then, there was a high pitched noise that repeated over and over and over again.

Over the noise, Armadimon called, "Armadimon evolve! Ankylomon!"

Iori saw light – a bright, white light – and then he heard the sound of wood flying and splintering and then the weight of the wood on his back was lifted and he was looking up into the face of his partner, now evolved.

"Can you get out of here all right on your own?" Ankylomon questioned, his deep voice echoing in the empty space that had once been a room, but now was only a pile of splintered, burned wood.

The girl's Terriermon partner shook her massive ears, sending a thousand splinters flying. "Amazing," she breathed, then turned toward her partner, who was miraculously awake, though looking paler than ever. "Ami!"

"I'm all right," her partner answered in a weak voice before she fell victim to another fit of smoke-induced coughing.

"I'll manage," Iori told the massive dinosaur-like creature that was now his partner. "Go and help Kabuterimon."

He was dirtier than he'd been, and a little sorer than he'd been, for his entire body felt as though it had been pummeled with the beams of the ceiling. For such a small hut, the roof of the house had been a rather heavy thing to have collapse on him. With some difficulty, Iori struggled to his feet – not an easy task while he still held Ami in his arms and still found breathing difficulty in the smoke.

"You're Chosen?" Terriermon questioned excitedly, following after them as Iori carried her partner out to the street beyond the house. "Have you fought many enemies? Why have you come here? Why is this village being attacked? What's here that they want?"

"We're not sure," Iori answered, certain that there was no way that he could answer all the questions and so choosing to answer only one. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe. He coughed violently a few times and found that it offered little relief to his beleaguered lungs.

"You…are Chosen, then?" Ami asked, breathing slowly and shallowly but a bit better already. He nodded.

They reached the street before long and Iori set the girl on the ground. There was no sign of her grandmother, and so he supposed that she had taken his advice and gone to safety near the manor house. He hoped that Koushiro had advised some of the other villagers to do the same. He didn't see any other villagers in the street at the moment, but he was not sure if that was a good sign or not.

"Oh no," squeaked Terriermon suddenly, pointing one paw toward the massive Tyrannomon that had chosen that moment to notice the three comparatively tiny creatures on the ground below it. "He's going to…."

Whatever it was Terriermon wanted to finish that sentence with, she never got the chance to. Ami grabbed her partner's paw, pulling her into her arms, and Iori lifted Ami once again and set his feet in motion. Behind him he could hear a deep, powerful voice call out "Tail Hammer!" and then he turned to see that Ankylomon had swung his massive armored tail and scored a direct hit on the fire breathing digimon's knee, causing him to roar in pain and turn his attention away from those on the ground. Almost immediately after this, another loud voice called out "Mega Blaster!" and a flash of what looked like lighting struck the Tyrannomon squarely in the head. In screeched in pain again, even louder than before. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The giant Tyrannomon was frozen for a brief moment and then deleted in what looked like a massive implosion, gone from the village.

"He's gone," Ami said, her dark eyes huge and wide in her pale face. "They killed him."

"Digimon don't die, they're deleted and reformatted," Terriermon reminded her partner. "They didn't kill him."

"Still," she said, hesitating.

"If they hadn't deleted him, he would have killed _us_," Iori told her. "Humans _do _die." He coughed, breathing heavily. "I don't suppose there's a doctor in this village?"

"No," Ami answered, coughing herself. "No doctors."

* * *

Iori was reunited with Koushiro, Tentomon, and Armadimon when he finally made it to the manor house. It was not an easy walk to make, having inhaled a great deal of smoke and carrying Ami, and so by the time he did arrive the sun had fully risen and the sky was turning from its nighttime hue of darkness to a pale blue. Both of them were covered in dust and ash from the fire, and their were a great deal of splinters of wood lodged in nearly every inch of their clothing and a few sections of their exposed skin. Exhausted, Iori collapsed on the steps and fell to sleep, though not before he'd set down the girl he carried.

When he awoke, it was nearly noon and he was lying beneath a ragged blanket on the same couch where he'd spent the night, Armadimon dozing comfortably at his feet. For a moment, Iori wondered if the morning had been a dream.

He could hear voices and noise coming from the hall outside the door, and so he sat up, intending to see who and what was out there. As he did so his arms and back moaned in pain, and when he looked down at himself, Iori could see that there were a great deal of tiny pieces of wood lodged in the fabric of his now very dark gray tunic – which had originally been only a light gray. He looked at his hands, which were also looking much dingier than he remembered, and which had quite a few tiny little cuts in his fingers and palms.

"So it wasn't a dream, then," he decided. He swung his legs over the side of the old couch, yawning. Breathing seemed to have gotten easier – he supposed that he had just needed a bit of rest – but the soreness in his body would probably be around a few days. With some difficulty, Iori got to his feet and made his way to the door, for even though much of his body was telling him to return to sleep, his stomach was crying out for food and drink.

The hall was empty, but he could hear voices and so Iori followed the sounds of conversation to the entranceway of the house.

The vast chamber was filled with people – possibly the entirety of the village. A large iron pot was in the center of the room and three or four women (including Ami's grandmother) were fussing over the contents, arguing or perhaps discussing the recipe of the concoction within. A group of old men was seated in one corner, some on ancient chairs that looked as though they had been left in the house, others on boxes or crates that they must have found lying around. Another crowd of people was clustered near the stairs, apparently tending to one another's wounds. For a long moment, Iori stared at the empty hall, wondering what the last Lord of Hida would have thought to see his home used in this way.

Koushiro was, as usual, nose-deep in a book in the midst of the chaos, seated on the floor near the edge of the hall, a massive volume opened in his lap, Tentomon dozing peacefully beside him. He didn't look up when Iori entered, but he wasn't the only one – hardly any of the villagers seemed to notice his arrival in the midst of all the activity. Seeking out the one beacon of sanity in an insane world, Iori attempted to make his way over to the wizard when a young woman about his own age stopped in front of him.

She curtsied low, as though he were some great visitor, and said, "Thank you ever so much for saving our village, sir."

Iori blinked, felt his face grow warm, and said, "I…I didn't save the village on my own…."

"Oh, no, but it would be gone without you," the girl said, brushing aside his attempt at modesty. "Even if the buildings are gone, the people live on, and that's the real heart of the village, isn't it? We've stuck on here when no one would, and it's very nice someone's bothered to save us from something." She smiled brightly, curtsied again, and darted off across the hall for some other purpose. Iori watched her go, her long skirts swishing behind her, and wondered who these people thought he was.

He was stopped by two other young women, two old ladies who apparently were friends of Ami's grandmother, and a few of the men who had been clustered in the corner, and all of them to tell him how grateful they were that he had come and saved their town. By the time he'd reached Koushiro, Iori was feeling confused by all the praise. He sat down on the floor beside the wizard, who was no doubt aware of his presence by now but did not look up.

"I don't think," Koushiro said after a moment, still not glancing up from his book, "that three Tyrannomon are a full attack."

"Three Tyrannomon?" Iori echoed. "That's all?"

"That's all I saw," the wizard answered, pausing to turn a page in the heavy volume. "All Tentomon saw, too, and all that were deleted."

Iori considered this gravely for a few moments. "How much of the village is left?"

"Not much. It was a small village. Three Tyrannomon did a lot of damage. Maybe it was all that was needed. Still…the last few attacks had a massive army. I wonder…."

"I wonder, too," the younger Chosen agreed. "Does this mean that there will be another attack on this village before long? Does it mean that they didn't feel a need to send out a whole army because it's such a little village?"

"The connection between you and this village seems to be rather distant," Koushiro noted, looking up from his book for the first time and turning to face Iori, his face twisted into a familiar thoughtful frown. "Perhaps the Tyrannomon were not connected to the group that's attacked the village. But, if so, why did they attack? There's certainly nothing here a Tyrannomon might want."

"These crystals you think they might be seeking – is there a way that we could find out easily if there are any near here?" Iori wondered. "Some sort of spell?"

"I'm certain there must be, and yet I've no knowledge of any," the wizard answered, his frown growing deeper. "I think I might be forced to construct my own, and I'm rather out of practice at writing spells." He sighed a resigned sigh and lifted his book, turning his gaze back toward the pages within. "Still, I'll do my best."

"And these people?" Iori questioned. "How long can they stay in this house?" He glanced up at the high ceilings of the hall, towering high above him. "How much longer can the village stay like this, with nothing? How will they rebuild?"

"They'll stay as long as they can, I think," Koushiro replied, not looking away from the book. His voice had a distracted sort of tone to it, and Iori knew that the problems of the villagers would not hold his attention much longer, for he was about to disappear into the large volume. "They've stayed this long, with nothing." He paused for a moment, glancing up from the book briefly. "I would say that the title of this place ought to be given to someone else, being that the last Lord had no heirs who wanted it. Still, that's hardly my decision. Send word to the King, I'd say, but who's going to carry it?" Already he was immersed again in the book of spells and magic.

"Who indeed," Iori mused for a moment. Suddenly, at the edge of the room, a movement caught his eye and he noticed that the driver who had brought them northward was standing in the corner, talking to a few women who had apparently cornered him into conversation. Iori smiled to himself and got to his feet.

* * *

Finally, poor Iori gets to do a few things. This chapter (and the subsequent Iori-centered sections that will come soon) was fun to write. I begin to think that maybe I should have done something more with Iori a long time ago. Ah well, it's good that I got to him eventually, right?

Sorry for the delay on the posting of this chapter. A few family issues got in the way and then I wasn't much in the mood for writing and even though this chapter was finished a while ago I never got around to posting it. Hopefully the next one won't take so long to get out.

Coming next? A bit more Iori-centered stuff, and then another few battles elsewhere. A new villain on the scene – or maybe he's merely an enterprising businessman. You decide. Till next time, ja ne.


	29. The Trader Xiao

**Enter The Light**

**Part Thirty: **The Trader Xiao

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie: **Plotmine, charactersnot mine. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to Moo.

* * *

From dawn onward, Iori had been working, and by the time the sun was about to sink in the western sky the sweat had beaded on his forehead and he was feeling quite warm despite the chill still present in the northern air. He climbed down from the roof he had been helping to repair, wiping his brow and turning to see the rest of the village.

It was a miracle that no one in the village had died or been badly injured. A few of the elderly people had some more serious burns, the result of not being able to move quickly enough to escape their homes before the fire reached them, and quite a few people, including Iori and Ami, had inhaled far too much smoke than was good for anyone, but by and large the injuries were minor. The village itself had taken a great beating, however. Many homes were completely destroyed and most all of them suffered fire damage or had lost walls and many belongings. In a village of only a little more than two hundred people, no one had escaped unscathed.

While Koushiro had buried himself in his book, searching for a clue to the reason and origin of the Tyrannomon attack, Iori had decided to take things into his own hands. He'd first commissioned their driver to return to the palace with a report of what had happened and a request for help. He hoped that the request would be answered with a fleet of Piyomon messengers, as there were none in the village, and wagons full of supplies.

In the meantime, however, the villagers themselves had decided to immediately begin the process of rebuilding. The forest nearby held plenty of trees, and a large group of them immediately went to cut lumber for wood so that homes and shops could be rebuilt. Iori joined up with a group of women, led by Ami's vivacious grandmother, and they began to work through the debris, clearing aside piles of splintered wood that had once been walls and furniture. Much of it could be saved for firewood, and they built a huge bonfire in what had been the town square, keeping warm and cooking plenty of food in its flames.

A nagging thought kept poking at the back of his mind as he worked, though, and Iori kept glancing toward the skies, toward the forest that surrounded the village, feeling that three Tyrannomon would not be the last of the attacks on this place.

* * *

There were a great deal of people hurrying through the corridors that Sora had never seen hurrying through the corridors before. She glanced toward Piyomon, concerned, but her partner was as clueless as she.

"Something's happened," she said.

"Another attack, do you suppose?" Piyomon wondered.

"No, no," Sora disagreed, stepping aside quickly as a group of men quickly hurried past, narrowly avoiding her, seeming not to notice her existence. "This is something else besides."

"Perhaps a particularly devastating attack," her partner suggested, turning her head to watch as the small crowd rushed down the hall. "Should we try to find out more?"

The crowd of men disappeared around the corner. Sora stared down the empty hall for a moment, then turned in the opposite direction. "If there's something that we need to know, I'm sure that we'll be told before long," she decided, but her mind did not leave the matter. Instead, she thought about it for much of the rest of the day, keeping it at the back of her thoughts through everything else that she did that day.

It would have been a quiet day otherwise. The sun was bright and the sky clear, the weather slowly continuing its warming trend. Sora spent much of the day with Momoe, walking in the gardens, sitting quietly in the sun. After some time, Mimi joined them, an anxious expression on her face, but she didn't seem inclined to discuss it, and so they kept up their small talk and gossip and tried to think of other things.

Sometime in late afternoon, however, explanation appeared in the form of Yamato, who appeared at the edge of the garden they'd been sitting in for several hours now. Sora could tell by simply looking at him that something _was _wrong, she hadn't imagined it, because he looked as though he'd spent a very busy morning. His clothes had been of the sort intended to look respectable and nice, but he'd removed his jacket and not bothered to replace it. His tunic had come un-tucked and wrinkled, his hair was standing almost straight up, and his face had a look of exhaustion to it. Sora caught his eye the moment he entered. Without interrupting Mimi and Momoe, who were engaged in an animated discussion, Sora got to her feet and made her way to the edge of the garden.

"Something's happened, hasn't it?" she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Has there been another attack? Something worse? I know there's something, even Mimi's aware of it."

Yamato frowned deeply and inclined his head back in the direction of the palace, indicating silently that he didn't think it would be the best thing to discuss in this place. Glancing back toward Mimi and Momoe briefly, Sora followed him as quickly as she was able. Only when they had gone inside and a door shut behind them, the conversation from distant rooms dim and quiet, did he speak.

"It seems there's been an attack, although minor, in Hida."

"Hida…where Iori and Koushiro went?"

"Right." He nodded, gesturing that she should follow him as he made his way down the hall. "It's not certain yet if it's the same sort of attack. It seems there were only three Tyrannomon involved."

"Three? That's all?" Sora's eyes were wide. "Nothing else? They've sent nearly – no, _more_ than an army's worth to every place else!"

"That's why it's not certain if it's the same group. Iori sent their driver back almost as soon as they'd arrived, and he reports that between he and Koushiro both there were only three Tyrannomon spotted. He does report extensive damage to the village, but it's a very tiny village. There's almost no buildings undamaged, and all the townspeople have gathered in the abandoned, yet unharmed, home of the last Lord of Hida, long gone."

Sora absorbed this as they turned a corner. After a brief moment, she said "They need lots of help."

"What they need is a virtual army to rebuild the entire village, and the need someone to oversee the village. There's no magistrate, no Lord, no Lady, virtually no leadership aside from one elderly woman. There are no doctors, no medics, and no nurses. They needed assistance long before the Tyrannomon attacked."

"What happened to the last Lord of Hida? Why did no one take his place?"

Yamato shook his head. "History and politics are not my best subjects, but it seems that the last Lord of Hida died nearly twenty years ago. The title was passed on to his niece, who was married to a Lord in the Northern Kingdom and showed no interest in tending to properties in Yagami." He sighed. "According to Iori, local legend has it that she stayed for a day or so and then left, claiming the manor was haunted. She's not been seen since. We could try to get in touch with her, but it would take longer to send word to her in the Northern Kingdom than it would to send an army to Hida."

"So you're sending an army?" Sora paused in the middle of the hallway to stare openly at him. Yamato grinned slyly.

"So to speak," he answered. "He wants to see you."

"To see me?" she echoed. As Yamato had already resumed walking, she hurried to follow him. "He – does he want me to go to Hida?"

"I've no idea what he wants with you," Yamato returned vaguely, shrugging lightly, not glancing in her direction. "He only told me to go and find you and to do so with all speed. There was a look in his eyes that I'm not usually fond of arguing with."

"Yamato. You're scaring me. There's something you're not telling me." Sora felt a shiver travel down her spine. She hesitated briefly in the hall. He turned again to face her, the same sly smile crossing his face.

"Of course," he said. "I left the interesting parts for him to tell you himself."

* * *

"This place?" Hikari questioned, her eyes opened wider than it seemed possible.

She was halfway out the door of the carriage they had taken to expedite their travel through the village in search of any sort of sign of a crystal when she'd stopped, suddenly apparently amazed by that which was before her.

Miyako, who had climbed out before her, stated with certainty, "Yes. There's a great deal of some sort of magic coming from very near here," She then glanced back in her direction and was surprised by what she saw. "Do you know this place?"

"Not officially, no," Hikari said hesitantly, taking the final step down from the carriage so that Takeru could follow. She looked back past him toward the last person climbing from the carriage, wondering if she'd see any recognition on Daisuke's face.

"So, unofficially," Takeru put in, frowning as he gazed over the small house that stood before them, "you've been here?" He glanced in her direction and saw the way her gaze traveled and followed it.

"Unofficially, yes," Daisuke said, frowning. He looked away from the tiny hut and met Hikari's eyes. "I remember this."

There was a moment of silence. Hikari turned away from him after it had passed and asked Miyako, "So, the crystal is beneath the house? Inside the house? Above the house? Part of the house?"

The young mage pushed her spectacles down her nose and squinted at the house. "I'm not sure. I think I would have to go inside to be certain." Glasses still perched on the tip of her nose, she said, dryly, "I daresay one of you might be able to gain us entry without difficulty?"

"I don't know why this should surprise me so," Hikari mused, an expression of thought on her face. "The boy who found the digivice lives here."

"Here?" Miyako echoed, one eyebrow raised. "That is an interesting coincidence."

"You'll find it even more interesting, then, that he and Daisuke have met," she said, glancing again in his direction.

All eyes turned toward Daisuke, who had not completely followed the conversation. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," Takeru noted dryly. Patamon poked his head with one paw. "It seems rather like you to make friends with the villagers."

"No," Miyako said, shaking her head. "That's too convenient to be a coincidence…."

"And yet, there it is," Hikari said, grinning. To Daisuke, as an explanation, she said, "It was Shijo and Maigo who found your digivice. In the ruins of the prison that was destroyed. They brought it to Miyako, who brought it to me…and to you."

"Shijo?" Daisuke echoed, eyes growing wide. Hikari was pleased. It seemed that he was remembering, had remembered him and that part of his past.

The door of the hut was opening slowly, one of the inhabitants undoubtedly drawn to the sound of conversation outside his or her home. A small girl's face appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide in her small face as she stared at the strangers. Hikari reached out, took Takeru's arm in her hand and nudged him back a few steps. After a moment, Miyako followed. The girl's eyes peered over those who stood before her and then a memory of her own lit up in her mind and a smile broke out on her face.

"You do live!" she cried cheerfully and, shyness and fear forgotten, she pushed the door open the rest of the way and darted forward on her small legs. When she'd reached Daisuke, she wasted no time with decorum or awkwardness but simply wrapped both her arms around his legs and squeezed tightly.

After only a moment of hesitation, during which he glanced briefly at Hikari, who, having seen him this way before, smiled in encouragement, he bent and lifted the small girl in his arms, greeting her as though he had never forgotten a thing.

"Did you think I was dead?" he asked her when she had released her hold on his neck enough for him to breathe again. "It hasn't been that long, has it?"

"Months and months," the girl answered him solemnly. "You're going to stay a bit now, aren't you?"

"For a bit, I think," he answered, noting that the door had opened and a slightly larger boy had appeared in the entranceway, similarly staring at the visitor as though he were seeing a ghost. Daisuke let himself forget that he had forgotten and said, cheerfully, "Hello Kodo. I'm not a ghost."

The boy giggled, apparently finding such a notion hilarious, and then ran forward to offer hugs of greetings, which they were still in the midst of when a woman, obviously the mother of both children, appeared in the door.

"Every time you come here you tell me you're all right," she said, her voice a mix of relief despite her scolding tone. "Yet then you go away for even longer. I'm not supposed to worry?"

Something about her tone of voice changed him. Daisuke set down the girl he had been holding and got to his feet. "No ma'am," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Though he was not dressed opulently, nor was he dressed in any sort of rags, and though his different appearance had not concerned her children, Hikari suspected that Mama would not be so quick to overlook any obvious change in him. Still, it was time she knew the truth about him, and if he didn't tell her, the news would surely reach her by way of her sons, who were both still staying at the palace. Sure enough, the next thing that the woman did was to notice his change of dress and the fact that a carriage waited a few steps behind.

"Who…are you? What's happened to you? Something's different."

"Yes ma'am," he said, again sheepishly rubbing his neck. As though aware of the action, he abruptly stopped the motion, stood up straight and shoved both arms behind his back. "I haven't been truthful with you. I think that I should, now."

"About what?" piped up the small boy, who was helping his younger sister to her feet. "About how you got such nice clothes?"

Daisuke took a deep breath, and Hikari could see that, although it was not going to be an easy task, he was determined to do this on his own. So, although she wanted to, she didn't step forward to help him in any way.

He glanced briefly at the clothing he wore and turned toward the boy. "Well, yes," he answered.

"How'd you get them?" the little girl questioned. "Can you get some for me?"

The question seemed to stun him for a moment. Her brother poked the small girl sharply, but she didn't withdraw the question. "I could," he said after a moment. "I should have already. I'm sorry."

"So where'd you get them?" the boy asked. "Did you steal them?" His mother, to whom such a notion had not yet occurred, gasped aloud.

"No!" he said quickly, emphatically. "I haven't stolen anything. These are mine."

"So how'd you get them, then?" the boy questioned, frowning, narrowing his eyes.

"My father," he answered truthfully. "My father arranged for them. Look, I'm not who you think I am. I don't live in this village…I live up there." It was the easiest, fastest way to explain everything that he was, and so he did so, pointing toward the hill on the edge of the village, the hill atop rested the house from which they had traveled that morning.

"You work up there?" the boy said, eyes wide.

"No, dummy!" his sister said, poking him as he had poked her earlier. "He said he _lives_ there. That's _his_ house."

"No," the boy said. "Can't be!"

"Well, it's not mine, really," Daisuke agreed, glancing toward their mother out of the corner of his eye. "It's my father's."

"No," the boy said again, shaking his head. "That can't be. You couldn't be…that would mean that your father is the Lord of the village, and that can't be."

"Why not?" the girl retorted, putting both hands on her hips.

"Because if his father is the Lord of the village, why would he come down here and play with us?" he returned, waving both arms for emphasis. This seemed to stun her for the moment, and then both children turned toward him, questions in their eyes.

"Good question," Takeru mumbled softly. This time Miyako poked him. He frowned toward her, but fell silent at once.

"Because I like spending time with you," Daisuke finally said. "You're fun."

"We are," the girl agreed, glancing toward her brother, satisfied by the answer. She nodded cheerfully.

"Don't you have more fun up there?" the boy wondered, gesturing in the direction of the large house.

"Not really," Daisuke answered cheerfully.

"So why don't you come around so much anymore?"

He sighed. "I've been very busy," he said. "Very busy, very far away."

"Doing what?" the boy asked.

"Where?" his sister wanted to know.

"That's enough," Mama's voice put in. She seemed to have recovered enough from the shock of the experience. "Kodo, Onna, leave him be. Go on and play now. Try not to get into trouble."

With some reluctance, both of them obeyed, running off in the direction of the river not far away, waving cheerful goodbyes. After a moment of silence more Daisuke turned toward her, but before he could speak, she did.

"I don't know...I don't know whether to be angry with you or to be grateful you're alive or…I don't know what to do," she told him, then, apparently feeling awkward, looked sheepishly toward the ground. "I…I'm sorry. The children are…."

"They're children, Mama," he interrupted. "Let them be as they are. Be angry with me, be upset if you wish. I'm certain I deserve it."

"Why have you come back here?" she wondered, her hands wringing a dishtowel as they had been since she'd emerged from the door. "To tell me something about the boys? About Shijo and Maigo?"

"About…?" he echoed blankly, glancing back now toward Hikari.

She stepped forward. "You should be quite glad he's alive," she told Mama. "You're not the only one who thought he was dead. Your boys are fine. They're at the palace," she added to Daisuke.

"Thought he was dead?" Mama echoed, turning toward him with alarm. "What's happened to you?"

"Hikari…," he said, sighing deeply, shaking his head slightly. "I don't need her to worry…."

It was possibly the first time in quite some time that he'd disagreed with her. Hikari smiled, oddly pleased by his reluctance. "More than you can imagine," she said to Mama. "Don't listen to him. He needs all the sympathy he can get."

* * *

Sora entered the room after a large group of well-dressed men had exited. They were talking loudly and rather animatedly amongst themselves, mostly in tones of great disappointment or anger. They were all so involved with each other that they did not notice that Sora and Yamato were entering the room, and passed them by without any exchange of greetings.

The room beyond was almost entirely empty of people. It was a small sitting room with wide windows, the type that the palace was filled with and often used rather than any large meeting halls. Taichi was sitting in a chair in front of one of the large windows, shuffling through a pile of papers and frowning severely in their direction. So involved was he with this task that he didn't look up from it when Sora and Yamato entered the room, even after Yamato had shut the door behind them.

"They didn't look too pleased," Yamato commented, crossing the room and taking a few of the papers from the top of the pile, peering over them. He frowned almost as severely as Taichi and looked away. "I guess the negotiations didn't go very well?"

"Horribly, as predicted," Taichi answered, shoving the remainder of the papers in his direction. Looking up from them, he spotted Sora for the first time, the frown leaving his face.

"Negotiations?" she questioned, her own face showing her confusion. "Negotiations about what? With whom?"

"Negotiations with a number of people I hoped I'd never have to negotiate with," Taichi answered, the frown returning. He sank back in his chair and put one hand to his forehead. "Those people who just left, who are largely unhappy with me, were the aides and advisors to the Lords whose estates border on Hida."

"They each want to claim it as their own," Sora concluded.

"Not particularly," he said, shaking his head. "Each one of them wants to give it to someone else."

"Let me guess," Piyomon spoke up. "No one wants to take on a village that's half destroyed?"

"Exactly." He paused, yawned, and sighed. "I've thought about dividing it up, but that would mean removing the villagers or placing each street under the control of a different Lord. They're not particularly happy about that, either."

Slowly comprehending, Sora took a seat in a soft and comfortable chair, no doubt recently vacated by one of the men she had passed coming in. Dimly, she noticed that Yamato was on his way out the door, carrying most of the pile of papers. "What will you do with the land, then?"

"I don't know," he said, hesitating slightly. Suddenly feeling restless, he stood and made his way to one of the windows and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Sora waited a few moments, certain he'd say more before long, and he did. "It has to be given to someone and there's no one who particularly wants it in that area. Even if I forced it on one of them, there's no guarantee they'd pay any attention to it." He sighed, turned away from the window and leaned against the glass pane.

"Do you think the people living there would be interested in moving elsewhere?" Sora asked. He shook his head almost immediately.

"Most of the village cleared out not long after the last Lord died," he told her. "The ones that stayed, they stayed because they wanted to stay, because their families have lived there for generations. There's barely two hundred people left, and they're not interested in leaving or they would have left long ago. It's been nearly twenty years."

"Twenty years," Sora echoed. "Taichi…you can't just give it to one of the other northern Lords. They wouldn't take care of it…."

"I agree," he said, nodding. He glanced toward the floor for a moment, and then a strange mischievous grin appeared on his face. "I was thinking that I ought to give it to Iori."

She was quiet for a moment, staring at him, wondering if he was truly serious. "Something tells me the northern Lords won't like that idea much either," she finally said.

Taichi shrugged lightly. "It's his village, after all," he pointed out. "He was born there. He's the one that's helping them to rebuild, that's no doubt organizing the entire effort of rebuilding. He's Chosen, Sora. Why not?"

"I don't think he doesn't deserve it," she answered, holding up both hands. "Not that he's not qualified, either. The Lords will object, though, and you know they will, on the sole grounds that he wasn't born to it. "

He shrugged again. "The circumstances of his birth have little to do with his qualifications. I don't think he would have been Chosen if he wasn't able to handle it, and if he's able to be Chosen, what's the reason he can't have the land?"

"We don't have any idea why any of us were Chosen," Sora pointed out. "It could have only been circumstance."

Immediately he shook his head. "Mimi was Chosen," he reminded her. "She wasn't here at the time, and yet she was Chosen."

"It was Mimi who released the digivices," Sora returned. "That might be why she was Chosen."

"There's more than circumstance in the selection," Taichi disagreed. "We were all here, except for Mimi, when the digivices arrived, but we weren't all together. Jyou and Iori and Koushiro? They were elsewhere, remember? Why were they Chosen and no one else? Why not, for example, Jun? She was nearby, too."

"Maybe," Sora began, then stopped, shaking her head. "I don't know, Taichi. I don't know what Chose us or why we were Chosen. The Lords are only going to be interested in the fact that Iori wasn't born of noble blood."

"His blood is noble enough for whatever Chose the Chosen, and that makes it noble enough for me," Taichi answered stubbornly. "How does blood get to be noble in the first place, I ask? Well, because some one declares it that way. I say that Iori is noble enough, and I should think my word should be enough to make it so."

Sora shook her head again, but was smiling. "It's an argument to persuade me, I'm sure. The northern Lords I won't be so sure about, though."

He shrugged once more. "I will deal with the northern Lords soon enough. They're the least of my worries."

* * *

"So, you're not only of noble blood, but Chosen as well, then?" Mama said when she had heard all that there was to be said. "Somehow, my boys are connected to all that? Somehow, my _house_ is connected?"

Daisuke shrugged, grinned sheepishly, shoved both hands further into his pockets. "Somehow, yes, that's how it seems."

The others had entered the house, to search for the source of the magical energies Miyako had sensed. Standing outside the doorway, they could hear conversation from within the house. Mama glanced nervously in that direction. "And if it turns out you have to tear my house apart to find what you're looking for? Then what?"

He frowned deeply. "Then I'll find you someplace else to live. Or I'll build you a new one. I should have done that a long time ago, I think." He glanced toward her once and then down at his feet again.

"We didn't need a house," she said. "We are, and have been fine with what we have. I know why you did this – why you never told me the truth. It's because you didn't want to buy friendship. It's because you wanted people to like you for who you were rather than what you could do. Am I right?" When he didn't answer right away, she added on, rather cheekily, "your lordship?"

"No," Daisuke said, speaking almost immediately. "Don't. Please." He frowned even deeper than before, removing his hands from his pockets and folding them sharply in front of his chest. "I'm not used to that…." He added, half to himself.

There was a noise from the inside of the carriage, just a few steps away from them, and the door to it creaked open and V-mon's sleepy eyes peered around the edge. "We're here and you didn't wake me?" he asked, yawning.

"We've been here a while, and you were tired," his partner defended. "Didn't want to wake you. "

"I've been sleeping for forever," V-mon responded, pausing to yawn. "I think there's something coming this way."

"Something?" Mama echoed sharply. "What sort of something?"

"Probably a bad sort of something," Daisuke answered, sighing. "It's rarely a good sort of something, I'm learning."

"And this is no different than most times, then," said a voice that he could not identify. From somewhere, perhaps the trees, a single blade came whizzing directly for him, lodging itself in the side of the house, barely an arm's length from his neck. "I'm interested in you, boy. What's the asking price?"

"Price?" he echoed blankly, scanning the trees that circled the house. "What are you talking about?"

Another blade was spinning through the air – this time, he dodged quickly, calling to Mama, "Get inside." Through the corner of his eye, he saw that she did so hurriedly.

"There's no need to protect her," the voice told him. "I'm not interested in her. I'm interested in you."

"Why? Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"I don't want anything with you, actually," the voice answered, and then, from the top of the furthest tree, dropped a tall, thin man. He was dressed impeccably, his dark hair combed neatly behind his ears, a pair of dark glasses perched on his nose. His boots were a shiny, leather-like material that sparkled in the sunlight, his pants and his cloak, which surrounded him entirely, was also black. On his chin were the slightest beginnings of a beard, the same dark color as his hair. "I know of quite a few clients who would be interested, however."

From the tree behind him were a dozen fast moving objects that suddenly dropped from the ground and circled the clearing outside the house. When they'd landed, he could see that they were all Igamon, all armed with a good supply of sharp weapons that glinted brightly against the sun.

"What – who are you?" He was only growing more confused by each of the man's attempts at explanation. He glanced toward V-mon, who only a few steps away, watching with wide, confused eyes that mirrored his partner. Daisuke could feel the weight of the small blue box in the pocket of his jacket.

"My name is Xiao," the man said. "I come from the Northern kingdom. I must admit, I didn't expect to find anyone like you, especially in Yagami." A smug sort of smile had appeared on his face, but his dark eyes were hard and cold, showing no pleasure. When this explanation didn't quite garner any response other than further confusion, he sighed, the smile melting away. "Must I spell it out for you? I'm a trader. I deal…."

From somewhere, an arrow came, speeding through the air as quickly as an arrow had ever come. It lodged itself in the ground only inches from the feet of the trader, cutting him off mid-sentence. "You deal in nothing," said another voice, previously unheard. "You make no deals here today."

The voice came from the rooftop of the house behind them, and from another stranger dressed in black, a dark cloak floating behind him as a gust of wind chose that moment to blow through the air. "You'll go, or my next shot will not miss your heart by so much as a finger's space," said the stranger, notching another arrow to an impressively large bow and aiming it directly for the trader, as promised.

For a moment, there was silence. Daisuke felt as though he ought to say something or do something, but he wasn't sure what, and so he only stared.

The trader recovered a bit more quickly. "How intriguing," he commented smugly. "It would seem you have some sort of a rescuer?" He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and half the Igamon had left the circle and arrived instantly on the roof, their own weapons turned toward the masked stranger.

Undaunted, the stranger tossed aside his bow and arrow and removed a long sword of his own from its sheath at his waist, raising it quickly in preparation of battle. The Igamon prepared to leap.

"No," gasped another voice, this time from the doorway, this time recognizable as Miyako's. The Igamon leapt into the air, the stranger waited, and the attacking Igamon bounced harmlessly off a quickly raised, previously undetectable shield.

"_I_ don't _need_ your help," the stranger told her shortly.

"What's going on?" Hikari questioned, appearing in the doorway behind Miyako. Takeru's head peered around the door a moment later. "What do you want?" she asked, addressing the trader directly.

Xiao smiled, the same smug expression on his face not meeting his cold eyes, and bowed once. "I am pleased to see you, my lady," he said smoothly. "I have come to offer you a deal."

"You speak peaceful words, but you come with a small army," Takeru noted. "I don't know if that's the sort of deal best made."

"What sort of deal?" Hikari demanded. "What sort of negotiations involve throwing weapons at people?"

"He's a slave trader, princess," said the voice of the bandit on the roof. He'd sheathed his sword and now folded his arms, his eyes glaring toward Xiao. "He's come from the Northern kingdom, searching for goods."

"There are no slaves in Yagami," Takeru put in. "They still have them …?"

"They do," the bandit answered. "He's not coming to buy slaves, he's come to seek out those who would become slaves."

"Such a nasty way of putting it," Xiao said smoothly, still smiling with cold eyes. "I have no need to take slaves from the villages of Yagami. I heard that your majesty was in possession of one you didn't wish to keep, and I have come to offer to take him off your hands."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Several people began to speak at once, none of them clearly heard. Hikari put up one hand, halting the conversation instantly, and stepped forward. "Take him off my hands?" she echoed. "Take him where, exactly?"

"Hikari, you're not -," Takeru gasped. The trader's smile turned further upwards.

"To the North, of course," Xiao said, apparently pleased. "I would make arrangements with the slave lords of the Northern kingdom, one of whom would be quite glad, I'm sure, to pay a sizeable sum, a portion of which could certainly be given directly to you, of course, your majesty. The exact percentages could be negotiated. I'm a very flexible person."

There was silence for a long moment. Takeru forced his mouth to close, clenched one fist tightly, and glanced back toward Daisuke to see that any sort of expression had completely disappeared from his face.

"A sizeable sum, you say?" Hikari echoed. To the outside observer, it would have appeared that she was considering the deal, for she was speaking slowly and with all deliberate speed. Takeru saw, however, that she, too, had clenched one hand into a fist and was squeezing it so tightly that it would have certainly been the death of Xiao if it had been around his neck.

"Oh, yes. The spell is amazing, you know. Quite powerful, much more so than anything currently in use. I'm certain that the slave lords would be quite interested in learning how to mimic and reproduce such effective controls." Xiao was still smiling, and now he glanced briefly toward Daisuke, as though he were looking over a suit he was considering purchasing and thought quite highly of.

There was another long silence which the trader took to mean that Hikari was considering the deal. Takeru saw that her fist was squeezing tightly. Suddenly, she released the fingers of her hand and turned on her heel back toward the house. She'd shut her eyes when she finally spoke, in a controlled voice, on the edge of some emotion that Takeru could not quite identify.

"Mister Xiao, I'm sorry to say that I cannot accept your offer," she said then. Takeru saw the smile slowly melt away from Xiao's face. Having composed herself, Hikari turned back toward him. "I'm not interested in selling that which does not belong to me. There is a reason, sir, why we long ago outlawed slavery in this kingdom. It is because we believe it is wrong to keep a person against their will, to make them become less than a person. I might hold the spell, but I do not possess him, and if I did I would not give him to the slave lords of the north."

Takeru felt a wave of relief wash him, and he was certain that he heard Miyako exhale sharply. He glanced toward Daisuke once more and saw that an expression best described as surprised relief had appeared on his face, his eyes wide and unblinking.

"You will regret that decision, I am certain, your majesty," Xiao replied, his face now a stern frown that matched the expression his eyes held. He forced himself to smile again, but it was a pale imitation, and then he waved one arm and both he and the Igamon had disappeared again.

"You weren't - ," Takeru said hesitantly, turning toward Hikari.

"No," she answered, not even glancing in his direction.

Miyako was looking toward the rooftop, now empty. She sighed deeply, and then turned and went back into the small house to return to her work. After a moment, Takeru followed her, glancing back toward Hikari, who was looking at the place where Xiao had disappeared.

There was a long silence in which Hikari remained, unmoving, staring at the space on the ground, her eyes narrowed, seeing something that was not there.

"He'll be back," Daisuke said from somewhere behind her. His voice was unreadable, betraying no emotions. It sounded, Hikari thought, the way it had sounded when he had been enspelled, as though he were relating facts unconnected with his life.

The thought had occurred to her. Xiao had given up without a fight, without so much as an argument or much of a threat. She nodded slowly but did not otherwise move while she spoke. "I've no doubt of that. He'll have no better success with me should he return a thousand times."

"I wish there had been a fight," Tailmon said, absently flexing the muscles of one paw, her claws glinting in the sunlight. "I wish he had attacked and given me an excuse to claw his eyes out."

"So do I," Hikari said, though quietly. She sighed, leaving whatever dark and silent thoughts she had been thinking behind for the moment, and turned to face the one she had just protected.

He was looking at nothing, his eyes unfocused, and yet he seemed to feel when her eyes were on him and turned toward her. Hikari waited until she had his full focus before she spoke again.

"If you want to go," she said, hesitantly, looking away. Then, she looked into his eyes, steeling herself, and said, more strongly, "If you want to go, if you want to be…if you want to go to the Northern kingdom…."

"No," he said, interrupting before she could finish forcing the words to be said. "I'd rather not." After a moment, a faint smile appeared. "If you don't mind," he added.

"I'd have no objection," she answered, returning the smile. "I made a promise, to you, to your sister, to your father. I intend to keep it."

Daisuke nodded once.

* * *

I'm very thrilled with the way that this section has come out. I still don't know where this story is going to end or anything like that but I'm very happy with how it's traveling that way.

This was going to be up a bit earlier but of course life interfered. It is my intention to have another chapter up before Christmas, but we'll see what happens. I've still got lots of shopping to do – and I don't have a lot to do – and so we'll see how much free time I have.


	30. Paildramon

**Enter The Light**

**Part Thirty: **Paildramon

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie: **Digimon and all related characters are not mine. The plot is, as well as the handful of original characters I've tossed in. Please, don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to moo!

Moo.

* * *

A message had arrived in the beak of a Piyomon around midday, much earlier than Iori had expected a response, barely two days after he had sent the driver back to the palace. It seemed that the driver had taken the task seriously and hurried quickly. It also seemed that the Piyomon had been told to seek out Iori, for it found him in the village rather than reporting to Koushiro at the manor house, which would have been far easier.

Iori was assisting with the rebuilding process, a task which required and enlisted the eager assistance of almost every single villager. Unsurprisingly, Ami's grandmother had taken charge of the women and children, who had taken it upon themselves to clear out the buildings, salvaging anything that was still in good enough shape to be used and categorizing it so that it could be returned to its rightful owner. A great deal of things were destroyed completely, and some families found themselves suddenly without clothing or furniture or other important items, but there were also a great deal of salvageable items.

The farms had continued, though at a smaller scale than when the Lord of Hida had been around to oversee the planting and harvests. The plantings had been beginning before the attack, and it was essential that they be completed if the village expected to make its way through the next year's harsh winter. Therefore, half of the men went to the fields to tend them as they always did while the remainder took charge of felling trees from the nearby forest for the wood necessary to rebuild the homes and businesses that had been destroyed.

The entire group had continued to take shelter at the home of the late Lord, and those who were too old or weak to travel to the village every day and help rebuild or clean up remained there, keeping themselves busy preparing food for the entire village and making the house itself more livable for all who now had to dwell there.

Iori was helping with the cleanup, knee deep in a pile of ashes in the center of what had once been a small store, examining a stove to see if it could be saved. The outer sections had been severely burned and charred, but it seemed that the object would still function. Outside, he could hear voices shouting to each other, but this was an ordinary, normal occurrence, and so he had tuned them out and focused on his task. Armadimon was sniffing a lower cabinet experimentally, smelling something odd from within and trying to determine what it was.

"Iori?" said a voice in the doorway, and he looked up to see one of the young women. "I think you ought to come out here…."

"I think this stove is still good," Iori said absently, not paying much attention. There was always something that someone claimed to need him for, often something which the others could figure out themselves. He tugged at it, wondering if he could lift it. "I don't know how we'll get it out of here, but it seems to still be useable." He sighed, finding it too heavy, and shook his head. The woman was still standing in the door, and so he turned in her direction.

"Sorry," she apologized, smiling. "It's just that Kimiko is in an argument with a Piyomon, and the Piyomon is demanding to see you."

Kimiko was the name of Ami's grandmother, and somehow the idea of her arguing with one of the messenger bird digimon was not surprising. "A Piyomon?" he asked, pushing the half-usable stove from his mind immediately. "From the palace?"

"I assume so," the woman answered. "He won't say. He just keeps saying that he was sent to see Iori and he won't talk to anyone else."

"Kimiko insisted on arguing with him," the woman's partner, a Floramon, put in, shaking her head and frowning. "He insists on arguing back. We thought we'd come find you before he flew off and didn't give the message."

Ami's grandmother was indeed involved in an argument with a Piyomon, or rather, had been involved. Apparently each was now so upset with the other that they had given up trying to speak and each was merely glaring at the other.

"I'm here," Iori announced, addressing the Piyomon directly. "You have a message for me?"

"I do," said the Piyomon, recognizing Iori at once. "Help is on the way."

"What sort of help?" Kimiko demanded, but the Piyomon ignored her, instead passing a rolled scroll to Iori, who unrolled it immediately and scanned the words within, nodding satisfactorily.

"A lot of help," he told Kimiko, who was frowning as though she didn't quite think that sort of thing was likely. "A number of doctors as well as a great deal of volunteers to help with the building. They're also sending along shipments of wood, food, medical supplies, and clothing and blankets." He was frowning intensely at the scroll now, which only raised her suspicions.

"How long will this take?" she asked, her own frown having calmed while his grew more pronounced.

Iori looked up from the scroll. "They'll be here in two days," he responded. "It seems they're leaving as soon as possible." He rolled the scroll back into its original shape and glanced up at the Piyomon. "You'll wait for a message?"

"A message and maybe something to eat and a short rest if you don't mind," the Piyomon answered. "They're eager for a response, but they'll wait if I'm about to fall over from exhaustion and hunger."

"I need to go back and talk to Koushiro for a bit," Iori told Kimiko. "I think you can handle things here." He turned to head back to the manor. "Come on, there's food where I'm going," he informed the Piyomon.

It was only when he was a significant way down the path that Kimiko turned toward the other woman present and said, frowning, "There's something else in that message he didn't tell us."

* * *

Koushiro had found himself a room that had once been an office, perhaps that of the late Lord's personal secretary, and made himself at home. The room was cluttered with empty bookcases and other such cabinets, most of which were completely empty save for dust and cobwebs. As was his fashion, the wizard had not bothered with cleaning anything except for the top of the desk and had settled down not on a chair (there were not many to be found in working order) but on a large wooden crate and made himself as comfortable as possible. He was, as Iori had expected, buried behind a heavy volume of ancient spells, a scroll of paper beside him, covered with a myriad of scribbles Iori didn't bother to attempt to decipher.

Knowing that speaking to Koushiro at a time like this would be mostly futile, Iori set the curled scroll on the desk across from him, knowing that the wizard would be powerless to resist the force of written words even though he might ignore a shout in his ear. As he'd predicted, it was not long before Koushiro emerged from behind the volume.

"It's come already?" he asked. "It seems our driver was in a hurry to return home."

"I think he expected he'd have to stay a few weeks," Iori said, taking a seat on another box. "I suppose he was anxious to get home again, instead of staying up in what he probably thinks is the middle of nowhere."

"Can't blame him," Koushiro said, opening the scroll, although Iori knew he was thinking of the piles of books in the palace, in his own cluttered space. "Well," he murmured, halfway through the scroll. "That's certainly an impressive amount of aid."

"I told the driver to be as dramatic as he felt was necessary to convey the situation. He saw it for himself – he was in the village when it happened. There wasn't time to write something, and I figured a firsthand account would be more efficient."

"The last part is vague, though," the wizard noted, frowning. "They're 'taking steps to assure that the village is placed under effective leadership'? That sounds like they're finding someone to replace the dead Lord, finally, but who?"

"Doesn't seem like they have any idea yet," Tentomon noted from his perch atop one of the tall bookshelves, where he'd been napping in the warm sun that flooded the room through the tall, though dirty windows behind him.

"Well," Koushiro said, searching his brain for memories of a map of northern Yagami and the Lords who owned the land in that area. "They could try to get in touch with the Lord's heir, though that might take weeks. I expect that there's a record of her existence somewhere in the palace."

"She hasn't paid much attention to this place in the last twenty years, why would she start now?" Iori asked, frowning.

"She might even be dead by now," Armadimon pointed out cheerfully.

"Wonderful," Iori muttered darkly. "A village left with no Lord and no leader for two decades and nothing's done about it. Now what?"

"If it's possible, it would seem wisest for one of the other Lords in the area to acquire it. Some of them have sizable tracts of land already, with two or three villages. I don't know that any of them would want to take on this place, however."

"Being as it's half destroyed," Tentomon put in.

"Right," Koushiro agreed, nodding. "It doesn't seem wise to give it to any one else – they could hardly give any more attention to land that wasn't anywhere near their current properties. Maybe it could be passed on to someone else."

"Someone else _who_?" Armadimon questioned.

"Perhaps the second son of a Lord who doesn't stand to inherit his father's land," the wizard mused. "So rarely does land become available that it's actually rather surprising that no one was granted the title twenty years ago. Still, if it's still in the name of the last Lord's heir, then it could hardly be given to anyone else, and if she didn't formally renounce it…."

Iori sighed. "In the meantime, until they figure out who is responsible, it's apparently _our_ responsibility."

"If by 'our' you mean the King's, then yes," Koushiro answered. "Land not owned by any of the Lords or Ladies is by default the responsibility of the King. Or Queen, if that were the case. Unless, of course, it's beyond our borders, in which case it is owned by whoever would be the sovereign of that country."

Iori sighed again, leaning back against the heavy bookshelf behind him. It creaked anciently but didn't wobble. "Politics," he mumbled, closing his eyes, feeling tired.

"Hmm. Fun subject, isn't it?" Koushiro said sympathetically. "How goes the rebuilding?"

"There's been a lot of wood cut," Iori reported. "There's been a lot of garbage hauled away. We've managed to completely clean out most of the stores in what was the town square, and we've gotten a good part of the houses done. Some of them have a lot of useable things left, and they're making sure to keep track of what belongs to who and all that." He sighed yet again, shaking his head slightly. "It's a lucky thing that everyone knows everyone because otherwise they wouldn't trust each other with that. Still, they did all agree that it was best to work as a community rather than as individuals, and that seems to be working."

"Maybe they don't need 'effective leadership,'" Tentomon thought aloud.

"Oh, no, they need leadership," Iori disagreed. "They're all equals. Everyone has an idea and everyone else disagrees with it. It takes hours to get things done and everything by committee. Kimiko tries to tell everyone else what to do, but not everyone agrees that she should lead and so a lot of people have to tell her that they don't think so and then they disagree with her ideas and they're not afraid to tell her. If they had 'effective leadership' then that would be someone who told them 'this is what we're doing' and they said 'yes, sir,' or 'yes, ma'am' and did it rather than arguing about it for a year, first."

"Hmm," Koushiro said, vaguely, his mind apparently elsewhere.

"Any luck locating a crystal? Or if there is one nearby?" Iori asked, changing the subject.

"Some," the wizard answered, glancing down at his paper filled with what was gibberish to Koushiro. "I think that I have discovered a spell that, when performed, will lead me in the direction of a powerful crystal, if there's one within a reasonable distance."

"How far is a reasonable distance?" Armadimon wondered.

"About as far as you can walk in a day, I should think," he answered. "I could adjust the radius, make the spell more powerful, but I don't think that's necessary. No one would attack this village if the crystal was more than a day's journey away."

"What do we do when we find it?"

"That, I haven't figured out yet," Koushiro confessed.

* * *

"This?" Hikari asked, looking up at the wall above the fireplace in the tiny house. Hanging on a nail was a long thread, at the end of which was a small crystal. It was small enough to be worn as a necklace, not much bigger than a thumb, glittering in the sunlight that came in through the windows.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun slowly beginning to sink in the west. The tiny sitting room of the tiny hut was filled with five people, all of them staring at the small crystal as it hung from the wall, casting tiny rainbows around the room in the light of the sun.

"Yes," Miyako answered with a voice that conveyed total certainty. "It's a crystal, and it has a concentration of magic within it that's stronger than anything else in this village." She had pushed the spectacles up on her nose now and was looking at it without the sight of magic, a sign that the magic was strong enough that she could see it intensely. "It's been growing more powerful the longer I've been here. When we first came in the house it didn't look magic at all, and the longer I stay here, the more it seems to intensify."

"Is that a good thing?" Takeru asked, eyeing the object with some wariness.

"I'm not sure," Miyako answered.

"Has it got a good sort of magic in it?" questioned the house's occupant.

Miyako frowned, folding her arms. "It's hard to say if magic is good or bad," she said. "In this case, I would say that it appears that way, but it's hard to say. It isn't dark magic, if that's what you're afraid of," she added hastily, for Mama was looking a bit nervous, "but magic can change shape quickly and it could be used for dark purposes."

"Do you know how this came to be here, or what it is?" Daisuke asked. Mama frowned for a few moments, squinting at the crystal.

"The boys found it down by the river," she answered, remembering a far distant memory. "It was years ago; I'd almost forgotten about it. Shijo came in and gave it to me one morning. He was barely six then, and it and he was covered with mud. I cleaned it off and it sparkled in the light. I hung it by the window for a while, and then later we moved it over the fireplace."

"That's a coincidence like none I've ever heard," Takeru said, his eyes wide. "First he finds this crystal, and then he finds the digivice?"

"It was really more Maigo that found the digivice," Hikari reminded him. She thought to say something about how Shijo had been at the prison, but she didn't want to alarm or confuse his mother, who had been asleep like the rest of the kingdom through the entire ordeal. "It is a strange coincidence, though."

"Well, take it if you need it, if it's important," Mama said, shrugging. "I've liked having it over the fireplace, but it's not so precious to me that I don't mind giving it up."

Takeru, easily the tallest among them, stepped forward and stretched one long arm up to take the object. Miyako frowned deeply for a moment and lowered the glasses just in time to see that his hand had come in contact with some sort of magical barrier, and he could not reach it.

"I don't feel anything," Takeru said, straining to reach, "and yet I can't get any closer." He moved his arm to the left and found that he could touch the cool stone of the chimney without a problem, and yet, when he tried to move it back to the right, he encountered some difficulty.

"It's got some sort of barrier around it," Miyako noted, peering over the tops of her glasses now. "I would guess that, like most important magical objects we've come across, it's not just anyone that can take it."

Takeru pouted, abandoning his attempts. "So I suppose I'm just anyone, then?" he grumbled. Patamon patted his partner's head sympathetically from his perch atop it.

"It's your village, Daisuke," Hikari pointed out. "Maybe it will let you take it?"

He shrugged. "It's worth a try, I guess." He stepped forward, stretching onto his toes, and reached the object easily, taking it by the string. When he stepped back, he reached out with his free hand to touch the cool glass.

The other three Chosen present let out a gasp of surprise, though for three entirely different reasons.

The ground shook and the walls of the tiny house rattled in the force of the quake. Anything else that might have been said or done was forgotten.

"Three Tyrannomon, two Mammothmon, and it looks like about a billion Veggiemon and Lopmon," Takeru called from the doorway, which he'd thrust his head around briefly enough to get view of whatever was out there. "They're coming from across the water."

"Well, if this _is_ what they wanted, they're coming after it now," Daisuke noted, glancing toward the crystal in his hand.

"Keep it safe, then," Miyako advised. "Let's go, Hawkmon."

"Coming along," Hawkmon answered, following his partner out the door.

The house was not far from the river, beyond which could be seen the massive army of digimon that Takeru had reported on.

"Patamon evolve! Angemon!"

"Hawkmon armor evolve! Holsmon!"

"No, stay behind," Hikari was saying to Miyako, who was contemplating climbing aboard and flying into the fray. "We might need you to protect the innocents – especially if Mummymon comes along."

"It's likely he will, too," she said, agreeing readily but watching with some amount of disappointment as her partner soared off rider-less.

"Can't I help, too?" V-mon questioned. "I'm going in."

"It is our village," Daisuke agreed, nodding. "Let's go."

"V-mon evolve! XV-mon!"

"You remember what I told you – about how I will find you someplace else to live if necessary? That I will build you a new house if it must be?" he asked, turning toward Mama, who was standing in the doorway staring at the approaching digimon. She turned and stared at him as though she thought he was crazy.

"It looks like you might have to make good on that deal?" she finished. He nodded. "What possible – they want that? That crystal? For – what possible use could they have?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Whatever use it is, it's likely not a good sort of use," Hikari pointed out. "Look! He's back!"

The "he" that she had just spotted was a powerful (and fast) green bug-type digimon speeding directly overhead, headed straight for the army approaching. "Spiking Finish!" he shouted, plunging directly into the fray, diving into a crowd of Lopmon, sending them flying.

"Damn," Miyako muttered under her breath, only just loud enough for Takeru to turn toward her with a confused expression. She was frowning severely in the direction of the battle, not even aware of his gaze.

"He's not the only one that's back," Tailmon warned, pointing across the water. "Mummymon."

"Damn," Miyako said again, this time loud enough to be heard by all. "Stay close by. The smaller the shield, the stronger it will be."

"Oh, Mummymon is not going to be your problem today, I assure you," said a female voice, and they turned to discover that the sorceress with the silver hair had appeared only a few steps away. "In fact, there will be no problems if you'd just hand over that crystal." She held out one hand, long fingers beckoning.

"Not a chance," Daisuke retorted, the crystal in question still within his fist, tightly grasped between his fingers. "You'd have to kill me to get it."

"Don't say such things," Miyako told him, her voice a hoarse whisper. "She's likely to do just that."

The woman laughed throatily. "She's right," she said, obviously having overheard Miyako. She tugged on her silvery hair, removing one single strand of the shiny material, and twisted it casually within her fingers. It grew longer as she massaged it, until it was the length of her arm, and stiff and solid, like a blade. Then, moving so swiftly that none could have predicted her movements, she threw the dart-like object in his direction.

A solitary arrow, moving swift as the moonlight through the dark night, collided mid-air with the silvery strand that had once been hair, and an explosion occurred, throwing everyone present back and off their feet. A huge cloud of smoke erupted from the place they had collided.

"Damn," Miyako said, loudly again, frustrated by the lack of visibility. Even speaking just that one word was difficult, and she could say no more because she was overcome, coughing.

"Don't interfere!" shouted the woman sorceress. "That crystal belongs to me now."

"To you?" questioned another voice, the voice of the bandit who had shot the arrow, standing now waist-deep in the thick smoke. "To you or to your master? Whichever it is, you won't have it."

"What do they want with it?" Daisuke asked, getting to his feet to find that the stranger in question was only a few steps away from him. A flash of memory chose just that moment to light in his brain, and he squinted through the dust. "Do I know you?"

"Not anymore," he answered shortly, not glancing in his direction.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your reunion, gentlemen," said the woman's voice, and they could see her rising from the smoke, "but I'm afraid that the time has come for both of you to die unless you're willing to _give me that crystal **now**._"

A blast of wind parted and dissipated the smoke, scattering it into the breezes and sending all those nearby flying backwards once more except for Daisuke and the sorceress herself.

"Miyako," Hikari called over the wind. "Can you do something? Shield him?"

"I will try," Miyako called back, "but I can't see anything."

The dark stranger got to his feet immediately. "I don't know what you want it for, but you're not getting that crystal," he said, grunting with the effort of opposing the wind. He had managed to remove his sword from his belt and was holding it before him as he headed toward the eye of the miniature storm.

"Come now," the woman urged, holding her hand out once more. "Give it to me. Let me have that crystal. You don't even know what it's for."

"What do you want with it?" Daisuke asked again. "You want to use it for some sort of evil?" He glanced around him – there was only space now between him and the sorceress, the wind like a wall whipping around him, separating him from everyone else.

"Evil?" she echoed. "No. I mean to use it to bring order to the world, to bring justice to the vanquished, to bring hope to the oppressed. Isn't that what we all want?"

"They were vanquished because they brought about the deaths of thousands," retorted the stranger, slowly making his way closer through the wind. "They were sent to the shadow world because that is where they belong."

"One could say the same of you," she retorted. "The shadow world is like a prison, an unholy and continuous land of violence and nightmares."

"And you want to open it!"

"I want to bring order to the world of shadows and release those who were sent there unjustly!" she shouted. "I want no evil! I want to free them from evil! Is that not what you want?"

"I want to free from evil those who are deserving of freedom! You want to free those who create evil from an inescapable prison they were sent to in order to protect innocents!"

"Innocents? There are no innocents in this world," she returned. "Give me the crystal or I will do as she said and kill you to take it."

"No! Daisuke, it was placed in this village to protect it from evil. If you give it to her, you give her control of this place."

"Control of this place? I don't want control of this place," she answered. "I want to turn the first key in the gate of a prison and set free the oppressed."

"And what of the people of the village?" Daisuke questioned. He could feel the crystal in his palm, the pointed edges of the object digging into the soft skin, but it was no longer cold glass – now it felt warm, it felt like it was emitting some sort of magic, or perhaps he was only imagining that it was helping him in some way. "This is my village. It is my job to protect them. You've attacked this place, you wish to destroy homes so that you can get this one crystal?" He shook his head. "No. You'd have to kill me to take it."

She was quiet a brief minute, one long finger idly twisting a strand of silvery hair between her fingers. "Very well. I gave you an option."

"Got it!" Miyako shouted over the roar of the wind, a split second before the woman sorceress let loose a shout of pure anger and flung another long, silvery dart in his direction. It bounced off her hastily-raised shield, leaving Daisuke unharmed within.

There was a continuous sort of high pitched noise sounding high above the wind, and then the wind let out one last gasp of anger, blowing another gust outward from the eye of the storm that once again threw nearly all concerned off their feet. The woman screamed again and leapt into the air, a long, silvery, spear-like object in her hand now.

Over the sound of the wind and the high pitched wailing and the sorceress's battle cry came another shout. "XV-mon evolve!"

Five heads turned sharply in the direction of the blue dragon-like digimon, speeding across the water, a single gasp of shock emerging from each one. "Another - ?" Takeru managed to say, but no other words could be heard.

Another shout sounded a split second later, almost at the same time. "Stingmon evolve!" And there, just a short distance away from the blue blur, was a dark green one, speeding at the same time across the water. Then, there was a blinding light, over which two voices became one and then shouted, together:

"Paildramon!"

He appeared, a single digimon, in the tiny space between Daisuke and the arriving sorceress, deflecting her spear-like blade without difficulty. She leapt backward, the blade dissolving into nothingness, landing gracefully on her feet.

"You think _you _can prevent the return of the vanquished?" she questioned. Instantly, the battle beyond the river was over, the enemies gone into nothingness as easily as the spear had vanished, only Mummymon standing on the far bank, smugly watching the proceedings. In the time it took to blink an eye, six large Tyrannomon appeared behind her, each with a glare of anger in its eye. "This is the beginning," she declared. "I'll get that crystal, and I'll get the rest. You can throw new adversaries in my direction as much as you'd like, but none of them will be able to defeat us."

With that, she was gone.

"Stay and fight yourself, you coward!" shouted three – or was it four? – voices in unison, but she was long gone and so was Mummymon, only the Tyrannomon remaining.

* * *

The battle ended shortly after, the Tyrannomon not being much of a threat. As before, they deleted not as ordinary digimon, their particles scattering into the wind, but strangely, as the last had done, dissolving into a black shell that cracked and scattered.

"Something strange about those digimon," Patamon noted, having de-evolved, landing on his partner's head. "Too easy to defeat, too strange a deletion."

"Something else strange, too," Takeru observed, crossing the open space between himself and the house, making his way toward Daisuke, who was bending over to take Chibimon into his arms. Exactly what had become of the green bug-like digimon Takeru couldn't see.

"That was amazing!" shouted the voice of a small boy, the one who lived in the house that had been nearly destroyed. Takeru guessed that he and his sister had been hiding near the riverbanks, watching the whole battle in relative safety. Their mother turned pale when she saw them approach, the realization of how near they had been to danger making her grow weak at the knees. She sank down into the dirt, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"Amazing!" the young girl echoed.

"You destroyed them all like they were nothing! Six Tyrannomon! Six huge monsters! Wow!" The boy, Kodo, was practically jumping up and down, eyes huge and wide in his small face. "Do you get to do that all the time? Wow. I bet Shijo would be so jealous. Wow."

"How'd you do that?" his sister, Onna, asked. "They all went poof, and they're so big!" She was so excited that she was almost depriving her partner, a small Pyocomon, of air.

"Yes," Takeru said, turning toward Daisuke. "How _did_ you do that?"

"I – don't know?" Daisuke asked, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, Chibimon sleepily resting in his other. He grinned sheepishly.

"Well, you'll have to go back to the palace now," Miyako told him, a grim expression on her face. "Everyone else is going to want to know about this, and they're going to want to know what happened and why."

"I'm sure Koushiro's going to spend a few months lost in a book over this one," Takeru agreed. "At least we got what we came for, though."

* * *

The evening was quiet, the sun having gone down, the sound of water trickling in a nearby stream the only sound. They would leave, it was necessary now, the next day, early, and yet Miyako had not been able to sleep, for she still had too many unanswered questions. She left her room, leaving Hawkmon sleeping contentedly on the bed, snoring lightly, and wandered out to the garden. She'd been watching the water flow past in the moonlight for some time when she heard a voice.

"I remember meeting you in the dark once before," Daisuke said, his feet crunching in the grass on the bank. "Is there something else I'm not remembering that I should?"

Miyako stared at him for a few moments and then shook her head. "It's amazing how you remember some things and not others," she told him, leaning against the side of a thick tree. "It was once that we met in the dark, and it was days from here."

He shrugged slightly. "Once, now twice. I'm getting the impression that there's some things I'm remembering today that aren't supposed to be shared with everyone."

"Yes, I thought you might have. I don't suppose there's anything else you'd like to share related to those memories?"

He shook his head. "There's a few things I don't remember that I'd like filled in, though, and I was coming out here to see if I could. Since you're here, maybe you wouldn't mind telling me if my memories are correct."

"You haven't remembered anything that was false yet, have you?"

"Not that I know of," he said grimly, and sat in the grass. After a moment, Miyako came and sat next to him.

"There wasn't anything – I mean," she began, pausing. "I'm not sure how to say this correctly without being rude about it, but there wasn't anything like…."

He waited, staring at her with some confusion, expectation.

Miyako sighed. "We had one secret meeting in the dark," she said, speaking quickly, turning to fix her gaze on the water. "You said you remembered that we shared a secret and we met to talk about that secret. There was … there was never anything…between us. That wasn't the secret."

"I know that much," he answered. "I remembered the secret today."

"I thought you might have."

There was quiet for a few minutes. Distantly, they could hear conversation from the kitchens, not far away, and the water flowing past them in the river. The night air smelled of blossoms and flowers and the cool, clean water. Overhead, a few puffy clouds drifted in between sparkling stars and a shining moon.

"What do you suppose he remembers?" Daisuke said into the silence, leaning his head back, looking at the stars.

"I don't know," Miyako admitted. "I thought maybe you might have some idea." When he didn't answer right away, she plunged in. "What happened today?"

He shook his head and sighed. "I'm not sure," he answered after a long moment of thought. "Some sort of merge. It isn't like I could hear his thoughts or anything like that, if that's what you thought. It's just that for a moment, for just a brief moment, it felt like nothing had changed in the last year and everything was as how it had been and I remembered everything and nothing was different. It felt like…like we were on the same side again…."

"You were on the same side," she reminded him. "Neither one of you wanted that sorceress to get hold of the crystal. Maybe that's why – you had some sort of a common goal? I mean, Daisuke, you shouted the same words at the same time."

He frowned. "It's not the same as it was then, though," he disagreed. "It's amazing how much has changed – not that I remember it all, but…. I'm not the same person. This isn't – this isn't some dream we have together anymore, you know? This is….I don't know what this is."

"But it _is _the same dream," Miyako argued. "You're both Chosen, you both proved that today. Don't all Chosen have a common goal of … of protecting the defenseless and … and keeping the world safe?"

"Do we?" he wondered, thinking for a moment on this. Then, however, he shook his head. "It's not that simple, Miyako. It's not as simple as keeping the world safe and protecting the defenseless. I think he'd say the same thing. I don't even know who _I _am anymore."

He got to his feet and Miyako watched him as he turned to leave.

"Now that you – now that you and he have merged your digimon, what's to say that it won't happen again – that you won't _have_ to work together?" she called after him, but he didn't stop, didn't call back an answer.

* * *

Wow. I haven't updated this since last year. Heh.

Well, this is fun. Exciting battles and such and explosions and all that stuff. Hope you enjoy all this action!

Coming soon: Iori had a bit of fun, and next I'll devote a section to the adventures of Jyou as he travels north to the city of Kido, wherein he and Koushiro have a bit of action of their own. Hopefully, it won't be another year before I update.


	31. The City By the Sea

**Enter The Light**

**Part Thirty One: **The City By The Sea

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thing: **_Digimon_ is not mine. Obviously I don't own it, because if I did I wouldn't writing _fan_fiction about it. The plot, however, is 95 mine. Parts are borrowed from the original, and the characters are, as I said, not mine. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to moo.

Moo.

* * *

They'd been at Hida for nearly a week before Koushiro emerged from the interior of the large manor house and made his way down to the village, slipping unnoticed between the crowds of people, both natives and outsiders, who were attempting to rebuild the town. A rather large crowd had gathered in what was once the town square, preparing for the day to come. It was early morning, the sun barely risen, but Koushiro had not slept and so was not tired.

"Ten? You only want ten?" a woman's voice was saying loudly over the general buzz of the crowd. "I'd think at least twenty for each building."

"I've seen buildings built with three or four," another, calmer voice returned. "They know what they're doing, they'll manage with ten men for each building. I think two or three days for each, right?" It was Iori speaking, Koushiro saw now, noticing the small young man in the center of the circle.

"Three days tops, sir," said another voice. "Most of them we'll have done in two. Larger houses could take three, but I don't see anything taking beyond that if there's no weather interference." Koushiro's eyes followed the voice and saw that it belonged to a tall, hefty man, obviously the leader of the men that had been recruited for the task of building.

"Sounds great," Iori said, nodding. "Let's try and give everyone someplace to live, all right?" There was a general shout of enthusiastic agreement from the men, and then the crowd broke up into smaller groups to get to their tasks.

"What do we do in the meantime?" the woman who had spoken before questioned. Koushiro saw that she was an elderly woman he had seen around before, obviously the most vocal of the villagers.

"My advice would be to stay out of their way," Iori answered. "There's more to fill a home than just space and wood. People will need blankets and clothing and furniture and food. These men will have buildings up in a few days' time, but there's much more that the people living in them will need."

The woman considered this for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "All right," she said, addressing the crowd of villagers that remained – mostly women. "We need to get started. There's been plenty of cloth and fabrics sent up. Let's get sewing!"

There was a cheer of enthusiastic approval to this decision as well and the women moved off to get to work, the crowd dissipating in their wake so that soon Koushiro was standing alone where he had once been surrounded by many. It was a few moments before Iori had noticed him, for he was involved with watching the others move off to work. When he did, however, he asked immediately: "Progress?"

"I see," Koushiro noted, nodding. "They're certainly keeping their spirits up."

Iori nodded. "At this rate, the village will be better than ever in only a few weeks. I'm just hoping it doesn't get destroyed again. Have you found a crystal or anything nearby?"

Koushiro shook his head. "I've cast the spell a few times now, and the nearest powerful magic that might be a crystal emanates from quite a ways east of here – I'm guessing, though I cannot be sure – that it comes from near Kido. This village is safe for now. That doesn't mean they won't come looking for a crystal again, but there's not one here, at least not so far as I've been able to find."

"In Kido?" Iori asked. "I suppose this means we ought to go and help Jyou…."

"_I _ought to go and help Jyou," the wizard agreed. "You, I think, ought to stay here."

"Stay here?" he echoed. "Why?"

"You're the only thing that's held this place together for the last few weeks," Koushiro told him. "If we both leave, the rebuilding effort will completely fall apart."

"Completely?" Iori echoed, disbelieving. "Why? I've hardly done anything….."

The wizard was quiet a moment, a frown of thought appearing on his face. He folded his arms in front of him. "It seems to me that this place was nearly forgotten for almost twenty years," he finally said. "When we came, we came directly from the capital, from the King, and we saved the village from complete destruction. It gives them some sort of hope." When Iori only stared blankly at him, Koushiro sighed. "If we both leave they could see it as the King is abandoning them again. We have come directly from him, and we are a sign that he's interested, concerned about what happens to these people."

"We're a sign?" Iori repeated, shaking his head. He gestured towards the wagons at the edge of the village, still largely stuffed with supplies of food and other material goods. "That's not a sign they're not forgotten?"

Koushiro shrugged. "That's one shipment of goods, Iori," he told him. "Who's to say there will be more?"

"I say there will be more," Iori answered immediately. "They don't honestly think that if I leave there will be nothing else coming, do they?" He looked in the direction of a cart filled with fabric, where a crowd of women was examining the bolts of cloth, deciding which ones would be best used in blankets and which in clothing.

"Maybe they do, maybe they don't," the wizard admitted. "But if you stay, that means that they're not forgotten." He shrugged again. "Only a theory, mind you, but I think you ought to stay here, at least for a while. I'll go and give Jyou a hand."

Iori was still watching the crowd of women as they fussed over the cloth, most of them extraordinarily pleased by the quantity and quality of the fabrics. "All right," he said finally, sighing. "For a while."

"They'd fall apart without you, Iori. Completely apart," Koushiro said again, already a few steps away, heading back toward the manor house. "I'll stop by here again on my way back home, see how you're doing."

"All right," Iori said, sighing again. He was beginning to feel a headache forming in his skull, right above his eyes.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon and the sun was shining brightly overhead. Shijo had dragged his brother from the dismal room he'd called his own for the last few weeks, away from his books of magic, out into the outside world. In the midst of green grass, under brilliant blue skies, both wandered the seemingly endless grounds of the palace for the first time since they'd arrived.

"What do you suppose Mama's doing right now?" Maigo asked. They'd stopped at the edge of a Monochromon enclosure, looking out at the dozens of huge beasts as they grazed on the grass.

"Making food?" Shijo wondered, shrugging. He against the wooden fence and looked at the dirt beneath his feet. "Monochromon are awfully boring."

"What do you suppose they do with all of them?" his partner Koromon questioned. "Why would they need so many?"

"To pull carriages and wagons," Shijo answered. He looked up in time to see that, in the distance, one of the stable hands was leading one of the beasts in from the pasture. "Pull wagons northward, full of supplies."

"Northward?" Maigo echoed. "Why?"

"Haven't you heard? A village in the north was attacked and almost destroyed. The King is sending relief supplies to help them rebuild their village. Doctors and medicine and everything they need."

"Wow," his brother answered. "Wouldn't it be great to go there and help out?"

"If you went north you wouldn't be able to study magic," his partner Motimon reminded him.

"Oh yeah," Maigo remembered. "I'd rather stay here."

Shijo yawned dramatically and turned away from the Monochromon, which had ceased to interest him. "Let's go see the gardens," he decided, pointing back toward the palace building and a section of the grounds which appeared to have quite a few colorful flowers. "I'll race you." Then, without giving his brother a chance to respond, he dashed off, easily ten steps away before Maigo could even take one.

"No fair!" the younger brother called out, protesting, hurrying to catch up.

It wasn't long before they reached the gardens. Even though it was only early spring, many of the flowers were in full bloom and many of the plants were as tall or taller than both boys. They wandered through the maze of flowers for a while before Shijo climbed up on a high stone wall that lined the paths.

"Do you like it here, Shijo?" Maigo asked after a moment of silence had passed between them.

The elder brother shrugged, examining a bright pink flower beside him with some interest. "It's all right," he answered. "Kind of boring, but nice, I guess." He shrugged again.

"I like it," the younger declared. "I like studying magic."

Shijo abandoned the study of the flower and looked at his brother with a curious expression. "Can you do any spells yet?" he asked.

"Not yet," Maigo answered, undeterred. "Soon, though." He grinned.

Shijo shrugged again, sighing. "I wish something exciting would happen," he declared. "I wish I could travel with the Chosen again, see battles. That was exciting." He sighed once more and looked up at the sky overhead.

Now it was Maigo who shrugged, not as enthusiastic about participating in or witnessing epic battles. A few moments of silence passed between the brothers before the younger said, suddenly, "Hey…Is that?"

"Is what what?" Shijo demanded impatiently, turning toward the other, but Maigo had already left him and was dashing across the gardens in the direction of the palace. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"I think he's heading for whoever that is," Koromon theorized, pointing out another individual that was crossing the grounds at that moment, heading toward the gardens.

"Has he lost it?" he wondered, climbing down from the stone wall on which he'd been seated and making his way much more slowly after his brother. "It's probably one of his teachers. As though he's gone more than a few hours without seeing one of them." He frowned resentfully.

"No, that doesn't look like one of those old mages," Koromon answered. "Looks like someone else."

Maigo had somehow spotted him from what was probably a greater distance than Daisuke had thought possible and it was not long before he was running at top speed across the grass. He was running so quickly that Daisuke was slightly fearful that he'd collide directly with him and cause them both great injury. V-mon, peering around his ankles, was similarly concerned.

"He runs fast for a human," he noted. "I suppose he wants to see you?"

"Seems that way," Daisuke agreed, his voice a mixture of amusement and nervousness.

A few seconds later, Maigo arrived, managing to halt a few steps before he collided with Daisuke, completely out of breath. He had to take a few minutes before he was able to speak, and in the meantime he stood up straight and saluted, grinning. "Good to…see you…sir!" he said, panting heavily.

Daisuke blinked at him for a moment or two and then glanced down toward V-mon, who only stared blankly at him. He sighed. "Leave off the sir, please," he said, uncomfortably shifting his weight between his feet. "Where's your brother?"

"Following," Maigo answered, pointing behind him to where Shijo was making his way across the grass at a much more reasonable rate of speed than his younger sibling. "I'm glad to see you're all right," he said, obediently refraining from any more 'sirs'. "Have you come to take me home?"

"Home? No," Daisuke answered, once again blinking in confusion for a few moments. "Do you…want to go home?"

"No!" he said almost before the question was complete. "Not that I don't miss Mama, of course," he added, chastising himself, "but I'm very happy here. I like studying magic."

"Studying magic?" he echoed. "You've been studying magic? I didn't know you – that's terrific!"

Maigo grinned from ear to ear. "Yes, yes it is."

"Daisuke - ?" Shijo interrupted at that precise moment, his voice an astonished sentiment of disbelief. He hesitated briefly. "I mean…um…."

"Don't call him 'sir,' Maigo advised. "He doesn't like that."

Shijo turned toward his brother and stared blankly for a moment or two. "What - ?" he finally said, his mind somehow apparently overwhelmed by the entire situation.

"He's right," Daisuke told him cheerfully. "I don't. Hello, Shijo."

The boy turned away from his brother and stared for a moment more at Daisuke before regaining the power of speech. "She broke the spell?" he finally boldly asked, for the last time he had seen Daisuke had been right after the illusion had broken.

A look passed between Daisuke and his partner and then he grimaced, looking rather uncomfortable. "Not exactly," he answered. "For now, yes."

"So everything is back to normal now?" he wondered.

"No," Maigo answered. "Nothing is normal. We're here and not at home and Daisuke's here, too, and he's Chosen." He turned toward Daisuke then, his eyes intently focusing on him for brief moment. "You're not normal, either," he noted, shocking both his brother and Daisuke.

"Maigo!" Shijo scolded.

"It was your digivice we found, wasn't it? In the ruins. Why was it there? What does it do? Do you have it now?"

"Yes," Daisuke answered to all the questions which 'yes' could be an answer to. He pulled the object in question from his pocket and held it out so Maigo and Shijo could see it again. "It was in the ruins because -," he paused for a moment and the boys could see that something about that answer made him uncomfortable. They waited a moment, and then he said "because that's where it was left. What it does is helps V-mon to evolve."

"Hello," V-mon said pleasantly, waving from his spot behind his partner's legs.

"Have you been in many battles?" Shijo asked despite himself, his curiosity suddenly getting the better of any wariness he'd previously had.

"Yes," he answered immediately, pocketing the device again. "Too many, I think."

"Did you come to take us home?" Shijo asked.

He shook his head. "No. I came from your home, and from your mother. She sends you both letters, which I didn't bring out here. " He gestured toward the palace behind him. "If you want to go home, I could arrange it, but I can't do it myself, not right now." He sighed. "Too many other things to do now."

"What sort of other things?" Maigo wanted to know, and again Shijo scolded his brother and poked him sharply on the arm.

"Do you want to go home?" Daisuke asked Shijo, who studied the ground for a moment.

"No," he said finally. "Not yet."

"I'm glad to hear it," he said cheerfully, and rummaged in his pocket. After a moment, he took something out and held it in his closed hand. "Do you remember when you found this?" he asked, opening his hand to reveal a small glass crystal on a thin, long string.

Shijo looked at it for a long moment and then took it in his hand, dangling it by the string. The light reflected off the crystal as it hung, casting rainbows on the grass and on his face and clothes. "This is from my house, isn't it? Why did you bring it here?"

"There's magic in it," Maigo said. He was looking at it with wide eyes. "I can _feel_ it."

"Magic?" Shijo echoed, staring first at his brother, and then toward Daisuke, who nodded. "I found it in the mud."

"Yes. A lot of magic, actually. I took it with me because I think I might be able to keep it safe, and keep your home safe. There are powerful digimon searching for this crystal and they'd destroy the whole village in order to get it. They tried to."

"And you stopped it?" Shijo concluded. "There was a battle – in my village?"

"Wow," Maigo breathed, eyes still wide.

"Two, actually," Daisuke clarified, taking the crystal back and shoving it within his pocket once more. "Do you remember anything about where or when you found it?"

"It was a long time ago," he answered after a moment of thought. "It was in the mud by the river. I don't remember anything strange about it, I just thought it was pretty and I could give it to Mama. She hung it up and it was there ever since."

"It was before Papa left," Maigo recalled, the memory of his father causing his previous cheerful expression to briefly change to a frown.

"Yeah," Shijo agreed, glancing briefly toward his brother. "That's all."

* * *

Jyou had forgotten precisely how many things he'd left behind when he'd decided to travel south, but the room he'd once called his own was still stuffed full of things of all kinds, boxes full of ancient objects he'd once found precious. Worst of all it, seemed as though he would be required to sort through all of it, to decide what of it needed to be salvaged and what needed to be disposed of.

The village in Kido was a port town on the coast of a northern sea, and the townsfolk there were all shipbuilders or sailors or merchants. It was a bustling, prosperous town through which large amounts of goods passed each day. When Jyou had arrived, his carriage passing through the city streets in the early morning light, he thought that an attack here would do a great amount of damage not only to the people here but also to the economy of the rest of the kingdom.

For the moment, however, in the early evening of his third day in the home he'd left many years earlier, Jyou thought only of the dust and cobwebs that covered every inch of the boxes in his closet, and how much he was not looking forward to searching through memories of times long past.

Gomamon, for his part, seemed mostly unconcerned, indulging himself in the happier memories of nostalgia. He was looking fondly toward the sea far below from the bedroom window, remembering lazy summer afternoons he'd spent frolicking in the waters whilst his partner had sat on the dock, immersed in study. A sudden crash interrupted his introspection, and he saw with some alarm that a large pile of boxes had just fallen to the ground, scattering books and papers and a few other unidentifiable trinkets around the room.

"I don't remember being this much of a slob," Jyou grumbled to himself, pausing to sneeze in the dust before bending over to pick up a few pens from the floor.

"Not a slob, Jyou," his partner corrected. "A bit of a pack-rat, though." He grinned cheekily.

The doctor only frowned sharply in the digimon's direction – he had become used to his partner's taunts by now and saved his energy for more useful endeavors. "This was once my favorite pen," he said wistfully, noting a particularly nice writing implement that had fallen from the topmost crate. "I suppose I could get rid of it now, though," he added, noting his partner's semi-critical eye. "A pen is a pen, right?"

"I suppose," Gomamon conceded, not being built for writing. "As long as ink flows out of it, it's good." He shrugged lightly and turned back toward the window. "Do you suppose an army of Tyrannomon will attack this place?"

"Don't say that!" Jyou scolded, tossing the pen over his shoulder. It clattered to the floor in the far corner. "I'll never get anything done if we have to spend all our time fighting Tyrannomon. I'll certainly never be able to warn the people in time to leave, there's too many of them!" He picked up an empty inkstand and frowned deeply at it for a few minutes before sighing in defeat and tossing it into the same corner as the pen. "Two items down, six thousand to go."

"Throw it all away," Gomamon advised, shrugging. "It's been in your closet for almost ten years now, you can't have missed it."

"It might be important," his partner disagreed. He lifted a small notebook that was covered with scribbles he'd once found important to his studies and squinted at his own writing for a few moments.

"Do you think I could defeat a whole army of Tyrannomon?"

Jyou sighed, tossing the notebook to the same corner as the last two items. "Let's try not to think about it," he decided. "Let's hope they don't come here. At any rate, _I'm_ not the Lord of Kido, and so the safety of the city should not be _my_ responsibility." A slight touch of bitterness was at the edge of his voice, so slight that it would not have been noticeable to one who was not listening closely.

"You _are_ Chosen," Gomamon pointed out. "Is it not the job of the Chosen to defend…?"

"Is it?" Jyou mumbled absently, digging through a box of papers. "I never figured out what the job of the Chosen was, exactly. I got a digivice and a partner and a crest and was thrown into battles. I don't remember a mission statement." He frowned deeply at the entire box and sighed, decided that none of it was worth saving, and carried the whole of it to the corner with the other items to be disposed of.

Gomamon frowned deeply in his partner's direction but Jyou, already deeply immersed in another box full of papers and pens and empty bottles of ink, was oblivious. After a few moments in which the digimon could think of nothing further to say, he glanced back toward the sea below.

* * *

Koushiro had decided after a bit of thought that it was best for him to travel toward Kido alone, and that he would take a small wagon to carry a few books and some other necessary supplies with him. He didn't wish to bother any of the re-builders or the villagers themselves, and so drove the cart himself.

It took nearly three days to travel to Kido, even without stopping much and without any sort of delays on the road. It was long past dark by the time the wizard Chosen reached the protective outer wall of the city, a single firelight in the tower above him shining as a beacon for travelers on the land and the sea. The edge of the rocky coast was home to scattered lanterns and torches illuminating the rocks for boats approaching.

"Awfully late to travel, sir," the guard noted when Koushiro approached. "What's your business in this city?"

"I'm only passing through for a few days," Koushiro answered (he hoped) truthfully. "I daresay I shan't cause you any trouble."

"Have a place to stay for the evening?" he asked. "Don't know that you'll find a room this late."

"I plan to stay with a friend," the wizard replied. "I sent word ahead, he'll be expecting me."

"All right, then," the sentry decided, apparently believing that this visitor would be no threat. "See there's no trouble, then."

"No trouble at all," Koushiro answered urging the Monochromon forward. "With any luck," he thought aloud, after the guard was out of range, "I will prevent trouble."

It was late and so the streets of the city were mostly empty of people save those who were heading for home or guards patrolling the streets and keeping order. In the darkest corner of the streets he thought he could see shadows moving as those who made their living in the night came awake and went to work. He urged the small wagon through the streets and Monochromon lumbered slowly onward, tired from the long journey.

Tentomon had been dozing in the back of the wagon atop the pile of books, snoring lightly. When the wheels began to clatter over stone streets, he awoke, yawning, and flew forward to join his partner in the front of the vehicle. "Something feels strange here," he mused aloud.

Koushiro resisted the temptation to halt the cart abruptly. He frowned deeply in the dim light, and directed the Monochromon to turn away from the water, inland, toward the tall manor house at the edge of the city. "I know, I feel something, too," he admitted in a low voice. The wheels clattered over the stones steadily as they turned onto the road leading toward the house. "Do you think you could fly ahead and find Jyou?"

"And leave you here alone?" Tentomon hesitated.

"How big is the danger you sense coming?" Koushiro asked. "Do you think we could handle it ourselves?"

The cart clattered along the road for a few moments longer. "I don't know," the digimon finally answered grimly. "It's a weird feeling. I don't know where it's coming from or what it is."

The wizard frowned, closing his eyes, trying to hone his magical senses. "I don't know either. I know it will be here soon, though…."

He could say nothing further, because the ground began to violently shake. The cart was thrown violently backwards, sending Koushiro flying. When the dust had cleared and he had regained his sense of the world, the wizard found himself on the ground, his partner hovering over him, the cart overturned some distance away, the poor Monochromon trapped beneath.

"Or it might be here now," Tentomon observed, eyes focused on that which was before him now.

Almost instantly, they found themselves surrounded by a crowd of the city's guards, each dressed in an almost identical uniform of black and navy blue, each carrying a shiny, glinting sword.

"I don't think that those will do you much good," said the tall man who had caused the disturbance. Koushiro focused his eyes on the center of the circle of guards, the space of which was occupied by a tall, thin man leaning heavily upon a walking stick, and a woman beside him dressed in a long red skirt and hat who twirled a lock of slivery hair around her. Some part of Koushiro's magical senses warned him of something, but he wasn't quite sure what.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the leader of the guards, the circle moving ever closer while Koushiro picked himself up off the ground. Tentomon glanced toward him briefly, but he shook his head once, almost imperceptibly, preferring to remain invisible for the moment.

"Some sort of magical disturbance, sir," the guard standing directly behind the leader observed. "Obviously unauthorized."

"We have no time for this discussion," the woman stated, and with every word she spoke Koushiro could feel the magical energy in the city grow much greater. Instantly, he realized that this must be the sorceress Sora had spoken of seeing near Takenouchi-Inoue. Outwardly, however, he displayed no reaction, only taking the time to brush some dust from his shirt and lift a small bag from the ground. The night air had suddenly grown colder, and he removed from the bag a long cloak, which he now threw over his shoulders.

"Are you all right, sir?" one of the younger-looking guards asked of Koushiro, who nodded absently, his ears listening to the conversation between the leader of the guards and the two intruders.

"Attacking an unarmed civilian, completely unprovoked, causing damage to city roads," the leader of the guards was saying, listing their crimes. "I daresay you'll have to make time for this discussion, and have to make even further time!"

"Unarmed civilian?" the tall man echoed, an amused tone to his voice. He poked the woman beside him and laughed heartily as though he had been told a very amusing joke. "Hear that? He thinks this traveler is an unarmed civilian!"

"Amusing," the woman said dryly, jabbing him back hard enough so that he finally stopped giggling.

"Ow!" he groaned, moving a step to the side, out of range of her elbow. "To think! He's the only one who presents us any danger at all."

Koushiro frowned from beneath the hood of his long cloak as he absently fastened it beneath his chin. Silently, each of the guards in the circle turned to look at him with new eyes.

"I've no time for this," muttered the woman under her breath. She pulled a few strands of silvery hair from her head with one hand and waved the other hand vaguely in front of her. A powerful wind knocked back each of the soldiers so that the only ones standing were Koushiro and the two strangers.

The woman tossed aside the strands of hair, which sailed cleanly through the air and then disappeared. Koushiro frowned in their direction, one hand feeling into his pocket for his digivice.

"What's going on here?" the leader of the guards demanded, his voice sounding confused. He got to his feet quickly, still holding his sword before him. He glanced toward Koushiro, who appeared to be looking intently at some empty section of air. "Explain this!"

"Later," Koushiro answered dismissively. "For now, I think you ought to consider heading for safety and doing your best to evacuate the city."

"What -?" he demanded, but stopped himself halfway through, for he saw that from what had been empty space before were now appearing a few dark shadowy shapes. "What are those?"

"I would guess," the wizard answered calmly, as though addressing one of his students, "that they are creations of dark magic, brought here by the power of the shadow world. If Miyako were here, she could see much more clearly than I can sense, but even without her, I can determine that much."

This explanation did absolutely nothing to clarify the situation so far as the guard was concerned, but then the dark shapes began to form into clearer molds and colors began to appear in sections. Before long they had taken the form of two massive Tyrannomon and one rather angry and violent looking Ogremon.

"You know what to do," the woman told these creations absently, already looking as though she had lost interest in the whole situation. "Find the crystal, destroy the Chosen."

"Chosen?" the guard echoed, having clearly heard not more than the last word of her sentence. He turned toward Koushiro and gasped out, "You're _Chosen_?"

The wizard didn't bother to answer. A high pitched, repetitive noise was sounding from somewhere on his person, and his digimon was glowing slightly. Over the sound of the noise and the ferocious growls of the two Tyrannomon, the small bug digimon shouted "Tentomon evolve! Kabuterimon!"

The Tyrannomon opened his mouth and the leader of the guards saw his life flash before his eyes and his legs and arms became useless. His mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide. Fire spilled from the jaws of the huge dinosaur digimon, and before long the previously empty streets were filled with fire. Miraculously, however, the guards remained unharmed and then the fire dissipated.

"Do you have some sort of a warning system in this city?" Koushiro asked him. "If you do, I suggest you implement it immediately. If you do not, I suggest you all quickly work to evacuate the city as soon as possible, especially this section. I can keep them contained for now, but I do not believe this will be the whole of the danger."

"What – what the hell is this?" the guard demanded, slowly regaining the power of speech. "What do they want? Why are they here? Who are they?"

"I will explain everything as best I can when they're gone," the wizard answered. "For now, you need to get your men and the rest of this city to safety. I cannot keep this place safe on my own."

The second Tyrannomon now roared loudly and turned in a different direction, spewing flames from its mouth and igniting several houses. After a few moments, the occupants of the homes came out into the street, crying out in alarm. Almost simultaneously, the Ogremon leapt into the center of the circle of soldiers, swinging its club in a broad circle and causing some of the slower humans to go flying. One of them crashed violently into a house and slumped over, badly injured. Others ran quickly from the attacking digimon.

"Mega Blaster!" Kabuterimon called and a blast of lightning seemed to come from nowhere and connect soundly with the attacking Ogremon. Momentarily stunned, the ogre paused its attacks, groaning in pain. A piece of its green skin flaked off, revealing the dark core at the center.

Koushiro glanced back toward the soldier nearest him. If he could not count on this man to take action and protect the others in the city, then a great deal of damage would be done. He hoped that past experiences would propel him to take the necessary actions, but so far the man had simply stared, stunned, at both the wizard and the attackers.

Finally, however, he seemed to come to a realization. Sheathing his sword, (a good sign, Koushiro reasoned, as it meant he knew that such a weapon would be useless in a situation like this) he shouted orders to the other men to assist the injured among them. "Li, run to the waterfront and sound the alarm bells. Wake everyone in the whole city. Wake General Joto, wake Sergeant Yao, tell them we need to evacuate the Eastern District first."

"Yes, sir." The man in question hurried off immediately in the direction of the sea.

"Yamamoto, Tanaka, Sato, you three head south. Knock on every door you come across and tell everyone to head for the waterfront."

"No," Koushiro interrupted. "Tell them to head that way. They won't attack the manor." He pointed toward the Lord's house on the edge of the city.

"You're certain?" the guard asked.

"Positive," he answered, hoping silently to himself that the invaders would stick to pattern.

"All right then," he agreed. "Yamada, head to Lord Kido, and let them know we're going to send evacuees their way."

"Yes sir," a chorus of voices echoed, and then the small crowd dispersed, heading off to their appointed duties. Before long the soldiers had all gone their separate directions. Distantly came the sound of doors being knocked on and voices urging evacuation.

The Tyrannomon were blasting fire almost continuously now, and Koushiro resisted the temptation to shield every house and building from the flames, knowing that to do so would only exhaust him, and to exhaust him would also exhaust his partner, who was, for the moment, the city's only hope.

"Where's Jyou?" he mumbled to himself, frowning, but the doctor was no where in sight, yet.

* * *

The closet had been mostly emptied of its boxes, and now the corner of the room held a knee-deep pile of items to be disposed of. Feeling tired, but accomplished, Jyou brushed the dust from his pants and began to think about getting ready for bed. It was still early, but the sun had gone down and he'd had a long day spent emptying the closet.

"Jyou," Gomamon said from the window seat, where he'd been lounging, napping in the sun all day, watching the bustling city below. "Do you remember there being a bonfire in this city before?"

"A bonfire?" Jyou echoed absently, violently fussing with a stubborn bit of dust on his dark pants. "Not that I remember. It's been a long time, though."

"Well, they're having one now," his partner reported. "I'd guess they'd got a wizard to make it, too, because there's some sort of a light show."

"Hmm," he answered, paying little attention. "Bonfire…."

A few moments of silence passed. Jyou gave up on his pants, deciding he was best off changing into nightclothes now, anyway. Better yet, a bath sounded like a good way to end a day spent cleaning. He crossed the room and opened his trunk, rummaging through it for his nightclothes, when a sudden cold sensation collided with his stomach and he paused in his steps.

"Jyou…," Gomamon said again, still looking out the window. "I think we ought to go down there…."

He shivered, wondering where the cold feeling had come from, and crossed to the window. "To join a celebration?" he asked with more levity than he felt.

"No…," his partner answered slowly. "I think there's some sort of trouble. That looks like Kabuterimon, and…."

"Oh, don't say that," Jyou interrupted before his partner could say anything further. "Please don't say that. I don't really want to go down and fight monsters tonight. I want to take a bath and go to sleep." By now, however, he'd reached the window and saw that the creature his partner had noticed was, in fact, Kabuterimon, and he guessed that the other creatures were Tyrannomon.

"There's an army coming from the north, too," Gomamon noted glumly, gesturing toward the edge of the city. A massive crowd of what appeared to be Lopmon was making its way quickly toward the center of the city.

"Damn," the doctor moaned glumly. "Damn. Koushiro doesn't even know about the Lopmon, I'll bet. And if this is anything like the other attacks, it probably won't be all there is, either." He groaned. "We'll have to go, then." He took his partner in his arms. "You wanted to fight, didn't you? _You_ wanted excitement. Me, all I want is a bath."

* * *

This section is a bit longer than previous chapters, but that's because I wanted to squeeze in a lot. It sort of reflects this entire story, because I don't really know when to stop it. I get the idea, actually, that there should have been some sort of a conclusion to this a while back, but I was never quite clear on where to stick it.

Anyway. Thirty one chapters is a lot. I never intended it to be this huge. Originally, _the Dark Bandit_ was supposed to be a short little thing. Obviously, my ideas ran away with me. Not that it's a bad thing! I'm having a lot of fun with this universe, and the ideas haven't dried up.

I have finally, at any rate, reached a stopping point. The overall saga isn't done, but this section will be, soon. Wow. Two more chapters to _Enter the Light_, at most, and then I'm going to switch to a new story. I won't tell you what it's called yet, but I've already started on it. Of course, there's no end in sight, not for the whole universe, but at least there will be a slight break. Really, this story should have stopped a while ago. I might go back and reorganize later, but it's a pain after everyone's already started reading it…I don't know. I'll think about it.

Wow, how's that for rambling. Two more parts here, at most, and then a new story. Till next time, ja ne. Thanks for reading!


	32. Jyou vs The Spider

**Enter The Light**

**Part Thirty Two:** Jyou vs. The Spider

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie: **_Digimon_, all related characters, etc, are _not_ mine. The plot of this story, however, is mostly mine. Please don't steal, don't sue, don't forget…to moo.

Moo.

* * *

There were injuries already, although minor, along the Northern district of the city by the time that Jyou arrived, the horde of Lopmon invaders having done quite a bit of damage despite their small size. Unsuspecting families found themselves driven from their homes by crowds of the long-eared digimon. Although their partners and they themselves tried to fend them off, the army was succeeding by sheer numbers and many humans and their partners were covered with minor cuts and bruises. Alarm bells were sounding further south, where Jyou knew now that Koushiro and Kabuterimon were fighting, and the soldiers had risen from their barracks to help fight back the horde of encroaching Lopmon, but there were many of them.

"See if you can't help some of them out," Jyou advised his partner as they paused; the doctor panting heavily after their quick run across town; at the edge of the fray. "Get rid of some of these little terrors."

A singular Lopmon had chosen that moment to notice the newcomers and had run toward them. Before long the small creature had attacked Jyou, swinging his heavy ears and scratching with his tiny claws. Jyou attempt to kick the digimon aside, but it only latched on to his leg, causing him to cry out in pain and try to pry the creature off with his hands. "Get – off!" he gasped, blood already trickling down his lower leg. "Gomamon – do something!"

"Gomamon evolve! Ikkakumon!" In a flash of glowing light, the tiny digimon was replaced by a huge hairy creature with long tusks. Finding the entire thing rather amusing, Ikkakumon lowered his massive head to the level of the small Lopmon and growled menacingly.

The sight of him was enough to make the Lopmon hesitate in his attack for a brief moment, and Jyou grabbed the small digimon by the ears and tossed him aside. Ikkakumon laughed, his deep voice reverberating in the hectic, filled streets.

"Ow," Jyou muttered, inspecting his leg, paying no attention to his partner's amusement. The injury was minor, although his next few steps were taken gingerly and he limped slightly. "Stupid thing."

Finding great fun in the battle, Ikkakumon dove into the crowd of Lopmon, bowling some of them over with his great size and knocking those that dared to remain away with the long horn atop his head. His laughter could be heard for quite some distance.

"Head that way," Jyou advised the city's displaced residents, most of whom were staring at the newcomer with some trepidation, as though they were not quite sure if he was there to help or hinder the progress of the Lopmon army. Most had likely never seen anything quite like Ikkakumon before, and so simply stared, stunned and astonished. "Head for the big house, you'll be safe there. Go!"

After a few moments hesitation, most of the families in the streets took his advice and headed south, avoiding the Lopmon crowds that filled the street. Jyou ran through the streets, shouting the same advice to everyone that he met, seeking out anyone who might be badly injured. Thankfully, there was no one, and most of those who heard his words followed his orders without too much further persuasion.

"I can't hold them off forever, Jyou," Ikkakumon said then, his voice reverberating through the streets. "When you've gotten everyone out, I think we ought to retreat."

"They're only Lopmon," Jyou protested at the end of the first street, pausing to catch his breath.

"Yes, but there's a million of them, I think, and they keep coming!" his partner defended.

"Let's go now, then," he decided. The northern end of the city met the port, and Ikkakumon would likely travel quickly in the water. "Head for the water, then, and we'll head south, back toward Koushiro."

After a final swipe of his horn to toss aside the last crowd of Lopmon, Ikkakumon plunged into the shallow but cold water at the northern edge of the city. After a brief hesitation, Jyou took a running leap and thankfully landed safely and securely atop his partner's head. The crowd of Lopmon surged at the edge of the dock, and though some of them fell into the cold water below, none were eager to swim after. Water, Jyou thought thankfully, was most definitely the domain in which Ikkakumon had an advantage.

Safely offshore, Jyou felt another strange chill in his stomach. He shivered, even though the air was not particularly cold and he'd thought to grab a warm cloak before leaving. Pulling it around his shoulders, he wondered if the strange feeling in his stomach was something else entirely.

A thought occurred to him then, and, with the wind whistling through his ears, he called to his partner, "Do you suppose there is a crystal in this city?"

"They certainly seem to think so," Ikkakumon answered. "Whatever it was that sent that army of Lopmon, anyway. They thought there was one in Takenouchi-Inoue and Ishida and Tachikawa, too, and they haven't found any yet, have they?"

"No," Jyou answered, pulling the hood of his cloak up to protect his ears. "Is it a big crystal or a little one? And where would it be hidden, do you think?"

"Maybe in plain sight," his partner suggested. "Perhaps it's hidden by magic and you don't see it until you touch it, or something…?"

Jyou shivered again and sneezed, feeling colder and colder. "I hope I'm not getting sick," he muttered. "I feel so cold."

* * *

The first two Tyrannomon had been deleted, almost too easily. Now, however, the remaining Ogremon had been joined by two dozen reinforcements. Swinging their clubs, they shattered houses and attacked people trying to evacuate. Worse, they were so small and quick moving that they easily dodged the electrical attacks that Kabuterimon used to try to prevent them.

Koushiro, perched atop his partner, hovering above the city, watched as the soldiers' swords connected with the clubs of the Ogremon, giving a retreating family precious seconds in which to hurry to safety, or at least out of danger. Unfortunately, this was a most dangerous form of battle as the Ogremon ultimately won in most cases and the soldier himself was thrown violently aside. Sympathetically, the wizard winced as yet another guard collided loudly with a stone building and slumped over, unconscious.

"There has to be some way to stop them," Kabuterimon grumbled, frustrated that his attacks were doing little to stop the agile and fast-moving Ogremon.

"I've got to find that crystal," Koushiro stated with certainty. From his pocket he removed a crumpled scrap of paper on which he'd scribbled his homemade spell that had lead him here in search of the item. He read the words on the paper, moving his fingers in a certain manner that manipulated the magic in what he hoped was the correct direction. After a few moments he gave up and stuffed the paper into his pocket again.

"Any luck?" Kabuterimon questioned.

"It's a strange sort of magic. It seems hidden and protected like nothing I've ever sensed before, almost unclassifiable." The wizard sighed deeply. "I suggest we head for the sea."

* * *

"Do you see that thing?" Jyou asked. He was still perched atop his partner, floating a short distance off-shore, the docks of the city and their current battles far enough away so that he could notice a bit of – something – floating in the water. "What is it?"

"Wreckage of something," Ikkakumon guessed. "Should we go closer? See what it is?"

"I want to say no," he admitted. "I want to say that we should head for shore and try to help out. Yet, I also want to go and see what that is." He shivered again. "I feel strange, and for some reason I think that _that_ is the reason for it."

"Strange?" his partner echoed. "It's not like you, Jyou, to sense magic, you know."

"Magic?" he repeated, disbelieving. "I don't sense magic! It just feels strange and I think we should go and look at it!"

"All right, all right," Ikkakumon conceded. "You don't have to get defensive." He changed course, heading for the floating bits of wood Jyou had spotted ahead.

"I'm not getting defensive," he grumbled. "Magic. I don't sense magic. I don't _feel_ magic. Koushiro's the wizard, not I. I'm a doctor." He was still muttering to himself when Ikkakumon interrupted.

"It's a small box. A chest, I'd guess," he reported. "Do you want to open it?"

By this time they were close enough to the item that Jyou could reach out and collect it without risking falling into the water. He reached forward, the strange feeling in his stomach suddenly taking that moment to reappear, and took the small chest in his hands. Instantly, the feeling faded, and Jyou opened the water-damaged wooden box to find that a thin, long string was resting inside and at the end was a small glass crystal, barely as long as his longest finger.

"This thing?" he mused to himself. "This little thing is what they've been after all this time?" Suddenly, he found everything hilarious, and before long he was doubled over with laughter and couldn't stop.

"Jyou? Are you all right?" Ikkakumon asked, a tinge of worry in his deep voice.

He took a deep breath to calm himself and sat down on the soft, warm fur of his partner's head. "I think so," he said. "I think, Ikkakumon, that I've found the crystal." He reached into the box and took out the object.

"Jyou!" shouted a voice from what sounded like a great distance away. "Jyou!"

Something huge was flying toward him at a very fast rate of speed; Jyou put up one hand over his eyes and squinted in its direction. It seemed to be Koushiro, flying on Kabuterimon, zooming through the air quickly. "Hello!" he called, waving. Taking hold of his partner's massive horn with one hand, he pulled himself to his feet. "Koushiro! Over here."

"How very nice," said a woman's voice that he didn't recognize and had never heard before. Jyou whirled sharply around to discover that a tall, thin woman in a red dress and wide-brimmed hat with silvery hair was standing a few feet away from him. She was standing on a mound of grey that hadn't been there before and after a moment he decided it must be the back of a Whamon, though he couldn't figure out how she had managed to get a Whamon to allow her to stand on its back. "Give that to me, please."

It was plain that Ikkakumon did not trust this newcomer, for every muscle on his body had tensed and he was emitting a low growling noise. Jyou stared blankly at her for a few moments before some part in the back of his mind remembered the woman sorceress that Sora had seen outside of Takenouchi-Inoue and concluded that this must be the same lady. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I don't have time for pleasantries," she told him. "I need the crystal, if you don't mind."

"I do mind, actually," he answered, his knees wobbling slightly though he tried not to show it. Trying to convey casualness, he leaned against his partner's horn with one arm and twisted the string of the crystal around his fingers. "I'd like to know who I'm giving the crystal to, firstly, and then I'd like to know what you want with it and why you were so eager to burn down an entire city to look for it."

She sighed wearily. "Must I go through this with each of you? I want the crystal to free the vanquished from the shadow world. I'm willing to sacrifice a few in order to get what I want. As for who I am…." These last words were spoken with a tinge of impatience in her voice. She was tugging on a few silvery locks of hair as she spoke. "I am the spider woman, a sorceress with far more magic than your friend there."

A few hairs came free of her head. Jyou winced reflexively, but the action did not seem to have caused her any pain. Instead she twisted the hairs in her finger and he saw that they grew longer and stronger as she did so. Then, with a quick wave of her arm, she tossed the needle-like darts across the open water. A half dozen of them sped through the air, heading directly for Koushiro and Kabuterimon, still some distance away.

"Koushiro, look out!" Jyou called, but it was too late. The wizard had seen the approaching missiles, but had not been quick enough to stop them. Kabuterimon effectively dodged a few of them, but two others pierced through his wings. A bright glow surrounded them both and Jyou heard the splash as both plunged into the water, Kabuterimon de-evolving as they did so.

"Will you give me that crystal, or will we do this the hard way?" the sorceress questioned, her voice still sounding bored. Jyou stared at the spot where Koushiro had dropped into the freezing and shallow water until he thought he saw a blob that could be the wizard's head appearing above the water. Only then did he glance back toward the woman, one fist clenched tightly around the small crystal, the other gripping his partner's tall horn.

"You're not getting this," the doctor told her, his voice sounding uncharacteristically certain, purposeful and angered. "I'm not going to give you anything."

"Very well then," she said, still bored and weary. "The hard way."

The wind increased until it was so powerful that the long white hairs on his partner's head were standing straight up and Jyou had to grip both arms tightly around the horn in order to avoid being blown into the water. The sea itself churned violently, sending tall waves crashing on to the shore and soaking Jyou as he tried to stay upright. The water was freezing, and he sneezed a few times.

Then, from the middle of the waves came another half-dozen small silvery darts. Panicking, Jyou threw himself flat against his partner's head, burying himself in the thick white hairs. "Give it to me!" he heard the woman shout over the sound of the roaring sea.

"Never!" he managed to shout back before the water splashed over him, drowning his voice. When he could breathe again, Jyou gasped out, "Never!" once more, and then he thought he could hear a familiar sort of noise through the crashing waves. It sounded like a high-pitched, repetitive noise, but he could not determine its source.

"Ikkakumon evolve!" he heard his partner shout over the roar of the waves. He could feel the vibrations of his voice through the thick fur, and then he could no longer feel the fur. Everything felt strange and he could see nothing but light even when he closed his eyes. It seemed as though he were a bit higher above the waves now, but perhaps he was imagining it.

"Zudomon!" said the voice beneath him, a powerfully deep voice, and then the light faded and the waves receded and Jyou saw that he was not where he had been before, although he had not moved, either.

* * *

Miyako had entered Koushiro's domain with some amount of hesitation. It was very strange to be in the wizard's tiny laboratory without him there – with only books and candles and strange instruments to fill the tiny space.

Hawkmon, following behind her, was barely visible in the dim candlelight, and was feeling understandably nervous about the entire venture. "Are you sure we should be here?" he questioned, voice wavering slightly.

"I have questions I want answered," Miyako answered sensibly, holding the candle before her as the heavy door creaked open into the small room. "Koushiro has the books that might provide the answers."

"Yes…," her partner agreed, still not sounding as though he completely agreed with her assessment of the situation, but was unable to come up with an effective counter argument.

With the candle, she lit the fire in the fireplace and the light filled the room, revealing it to be much the way Koushiro had left it. Tall bookcases lined the walls, stuffed with heavy volumes, and at least two dozen piles of books scattered the floor and the small tables within. Another shelving unit was covered with beakers containing strange-colored liquids, and a heavy iron cauldron collected dust in the corner. "Where to begin…?" she mused, climbing into the tall stool she had previously used when studying here. A small pile of books rested on the table beside her, and she took the top volume from the pile and creaked it open.

Hawkmon, seeing that no great harm had come from entering a wizard's room without said wizard being present, settled himself as he usually did on a shelf near the fireplace and fell soon into a comfortable nap.

It was nearly midnight, the fire having gone down and the candles shrunk to only stubs of wax, before Miyako was interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the doorway. Feeling a bit as though she was awakening from a nap, she blinked in the dim lighting, hearing a familiar voice speak.

"This is a sight," Takeru noted, eyebrows raised, eyes wide. "It's almost as if you had taken over for Koushiro. I can't tell you how many times I've wandered down this hall at night and seen him in exactly the same position, lights gone down to nearly nothing." He shook his head in amusement.

Miyako yawned, her mind slowly coming awake. "Has it been that long already?" she wondered, looking at the once tall candle before her. "Magical reading has a way of doing that to you, I suppose." She climbed down from the stool she'd been sitting on and began to search through the shelves above the fireplace for a fresh batch of candles that she knew were stocked in that place. She found them easily and began to light them, brightening the room considerably. "What brings you here this time of night?" she asked when Takeru came in, setting himself on a stool across the table from her. He took the topmost book from a nearby pile and squinted at the cover for a few moments.

"I was thinking – and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind – about how strange it was that we could find no mention of Mummymon in any of these books," he answered, opening the book and flipping through a few of the pages as he spoke. "I started to think that maybe I could find some information on him now that we at least know his name. Maybe," he added, the new thought occurring to him at that moment, "if we find out something about Mummymon, we could find out something about that sorceress that's always with him."

"Maybe," Miyako admitted. Candles relit, she sat down in her previous seat once more. "Something's been bothering me, though. We've been thinking that they want these crystals because they want to open a portal to the shadow world, right?"

"That's the theory," Takeru agreed, flipping a few pages in the book. "What else could they want them for?"

"I know, but, see, Demon has enough power to cross to our world from the shadow world. We've seen him at least twice, and who's to say that he's never been here at any other time? Why, then, would they need crystals?"

"To bring something else here?" he suggested, shutting the book and setting it aside. "I can't imagine what, though."

Miyako leaned back in her seat, frowning. "I have been trying to find information about the shadow world," she said. "To see what resides there and try to figure out what that sorceress wants to free. She said something about those who were '_unjustly imprisoned_.' Who imprisoned them?" She sighed heavily and jabbed one finger at the book directly in front of her. "These stupid things say nothing about the shadow world except that it's a place no man dares tread."

"What you need," said a voice from the doorway, "is a book of dark magic. Or a dark wizard." Daisuke stood, leaning against the frame of the door, a now familiar expression of confusion on his face, frowning as though he were trying to recall something.

"We had a book of dark magic," she answered darkly, a more severe frown growing on her face. "I couldn't touch it. You lost it."

He shrugged slightly, but said nothing, entering the room with some amount of caution, eyes wandering over the books.

"What if the sorceress and Mummymon don't work for Demon?" Takeru wondered aloud. "What if they can't open a portal to the shadow world because they don't have enough power?"

Miyako looked up from the heavy volume she'd been studying, a thoughtful expression on her face. "That's a scary thought," she answered, thinking for a moment, and then nodded toward Daisuke, who was looking up at one of the tall bookshelves with great interest. "He's the one who said Mummymon works for Demon."

Takeru fell silent, opening the next volume in the pile beside him.

"It's possible that I could be wrong," Daisuke said after a moment passed. "I'm not sure you ought to trust any information that comes from me at this point." He grinned sheepishly and turned momentarily away from his study of the bookcase. "I don't even know how I know that."

There was a sudden, sharp noise that caused Miyako to jump as Takeru slammed shut the book he'd been looking through. "Let's try this, then," he suggested, turning around in his seat to face Daisuke. "What _do_ you remember?"

"Takeru!" Miyako said sharply, but he waved her away with a casual flick of his hand.

"No, let him ask," Daisuke said absently, before the young mage could react anymore violently than she already had. "I know he's been dying to."

Takeru grinned smugly. "Well then?" he asked after a moment of silence. "What do you remember?"

A book on the shelf before him had caught Daisuke's interest, and he took it from its spot and carried it across the room to the table where the other two were seated. "I remember cold and darkness," he answered, setting the book down on the table. "That's most of it."

"That's all?" Takeru asked, obviously disappointed.

"Memory's kind of a funny thing," Miyako mused, watching as Daisuke began to flip through the pages. "How do you know what you don't remember? You don't remember it."

Takeru stared at her for a moment but had nothing to say to this.

Daisuke had taken one of the remaining seats and was looking through the book with a casual sort of attitude, as though he was only glancing through it with a passing interest. "It was cold and it was dark," he said again in answer to Takeru's continuing silence. He paused briefly and looked toward the others with an odd expression. "I don't remember much more than that because I don't want to."

"What if somewhere in your memories is the key to breaking the spell?" Takeru proposed.

He shook his head, turning back toward the book. "It's not," he answered simply. "You seem to think that somewhere in my head is the answer to everything. I think you're wrong."

"How do you know if you don't remember?" Takeru argued.

Daisuke didn't seem inclined to answer this. He flipped a few pages in his book, obviously intent on finding something in particular. Miyako glanced curiously across the table, wondering what he was looking for, wondering what book it was that he had taken. After a moment, he stopped on a particular page, and she gasped in surprise.

"That's him," Takeru realized, having looked over to see what it was she had seen. "That's him! How did you find him?"

"He's not exactly a digimon," Daisuke said, looking quickly over the page in question. "This isn't a digimon index book. It's something else. The reason you couldn't find Mummymon or his partner in any book of digimon is that he's not a naturally occurring digimon."

"And you know this because - ?"

"What do you mean 'not naturally occurring'?" Miyako asked, pulling the volume closer to her so she could read what was written. "He was created?"

"Created by whom?" Takeru asked.

"It says here that Mummymon was created by a merge of the essence of a human soul with the digital material of a digimon, whatever that means," she answered, eyes quickly scanning over the page. "Who would - ?"

"How did you - ?" Takeru started to ask again, turning toward Daisuke.

"I told you," he answered before the question was finished, his voice sounding not a little irritated. "I remember cold and darkness. That's all."

"But this - ?"

"Means nothing," he answered shortly. Then, he turned toward Miyako. "You need to talk to someone who has been to the shadow world and who can tell you something about those who do and do not work for Demon. I think you know where to find such a person."

Miyako shook her head. "He wouldn't - ," she protested.

"For you, he might," Daisuke disagreed, shrugging.

* * *

One more chapter to go, folks, one more chapter to go. :sings cheerfully: 


	33. Departures

**Enter The Light**

**Part Thirty Three: **Departures

* * *

**Standard Disclaimer Thingie:** _Digimon _is not mine, I'm only borrowing the characters and some plot points. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to moo.

Moo, and enjoy this last chapter.

* * *

"Hammer Spark!" shouted a deep and powerful voice, and a flash of lightning-like power extended out over the ocean, a destructive force that instantly deleted the Whamon that had been the sorceress's floating island.

Barely managing to keep his head above water in the torrential waves, Koushiro debated whether it would be wiser to swim to shore or to head towards Jyou and Zudomon, in the midst of the battle. Tentomon, severely weakened, was certainly in no shape for another evolution, and was now resting atop his partner's head, feeling too exhausted to even keep himself in the air.

"I think," Koushiro said, pausing briefly to hold his breath as another wave crashed past him, "that it would be wise to get out of the water."

"Yes," Tentomon agreed, sounding sleepy.

Even though it was some distance back to land, Koushiro struck out for shore, resolutely forcing his arms forward and kicking his legs behind him, grateful that he had long ago learned to keep himself afloat in the water. It was difficult work, however, and his body ached after his sharp collision with the water.

A loud roar behind him made him stop swimming long enough to glance backwards and see that a massive serpentine digimon had risen from the water, screeching in anger. Koushiro recognized the creature as Mega Seadramon, and was not particularly surprised to see two more of the same digimon rise from the waves.

"I should go and help him," Tentomon mumbled weakly, taking to the air.

"No!" Koushiro told him sharply. "You're too weak already – you can't evolve again – you've already been hurt!"

"You're right," his partner answered, sounding sleepy. "Still – do you suppose he'll be all right?"

"He's got to be," the wizard answered simply.

"Hammer Spark!" Zudomon called, his words echoing across the vast expanse of ocean. Again, a bright light filled the sky as the attack's destructive power spread out above the ocean. The waves raged violently, and Koushiro struggled to stay afloat, to take in air rather than water.

* * *

The sun was rising overhead – the wizard was aware of a dim light above him – and when he opened his eyes he saw three men in identical navy blue uniforms looking down at him with concern.

"Welcome back, wizard Chosen," one of them said with a sigh of relief.

Koushiro blinked his eyes a few times and then sat up to find that his clothes were still thoroughly drenched, and he was lying on the deck of a small boat in the midst of the city's harbor. "Jyou?" he questioned.

"He's already on shore," came the answer. "After he'd blasted those sea monsters out of the water, he came aground and asked after you. When we heard you'd not come back yet, we sailed out to find you."

"You're lucky we did, too, sir," another of the men told him. "You swallowed quite a bit of water."

* * *

"You really think Takaishi will be attacked?" Yamato questioned, a bit of skepticism in his voice, a frown on his face.

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't," Takeru agreed, shrugging lightly. "I've – got this sort of feeling, that's all."

"So, now _you're_ having premonitions?" his brother returned, shaking his head slightly.

"No," the younger defended, sheepishly jamming both his hands into his pockets. "I – I don't know how to explain it…."

They were standing in the gardens in midmorning, Yamato having recently completed his morning exercises. Now that the weather was growing warmer, he preferred to train out of doors rather than in the many rooms set up for that purpose indoors. Leaning against a tree, lost in his own thoughts, Takeru had uncharacteristically declined to spar with his brother, instead voicing his desire to travel to their mother's parents' home.

Yamato sat down on a bench not far away, facing his brother, and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Don't tell me. You have a hunch."

Takeru frowned disagreeably. "Don't mock me."

The elder brother took a long gulp from a jug of water he had carried with him, nearly draining the entire vessel before he came up for air. "I suppose if you really think it's necessary, go," he finally said. "I hope you're not wasting your time."

"We don't know why these villages have crystals in them," Takeru reasoned. "All we know is that the villages that do are villages that have some connection to one of the Chosen. I've got a connection to Takaishi, even if you don't, and I'm Chosen, so maybe there's a crystal there. If there is, I'd like it not to be used to open a portal to the shadow world."

"True," he agreed, shrugging. He downed the rest of his water in another long gulp and then sighed deeply. "Go, then."

"So you don't want to come, then?"

"Not particularly."

* * *

"No, I think it's a good idea," Hikari consoled. "Every possible precaution, after all."

They were gathered in Koushiro's space, surrounded by books upon books. Miyako was present as well, though she was nose-deep in a thick volume of magic, and Daisuke, who was lounging, mind elsewhere, on an uncomfortable looking chair, paying little attention to the present.

Takeru nodded, pleased that someone had understood his desire.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she offered. "If an entire army _does_ attack, you might need some help, you know."

He considered. "I wouldn't mind it," he answered truthfully. "If it's not any trouble."

"No trouble," she assured him. "It's part of the duty of a Chosen, and I'm Chosen as much as you are, remember? When shall we leave?"

"Two days, I think," Takeru answered. "If that's all right." He still had a hesitant sort of expression on his face.

"It's perfectly all right. You should learn to trust your feelings, Takeru."

This was so completely opposite of the attitude his brother had shown earlier that day that Takeru could only stare in shock for a moment or two. Hikari returned to the volume she had been perusing, and he tried to think of some sort of response to this.

* * *

Taking the glass crystal in one hand, Koushiro shut his eyes and concentrated for a long moment, feeling the magic as it ebbed and flowed through the small object.

"Well?" Jyou questioned, after a long silence had passed and he could no longer contain his curiosity.

"It's definitely magic, and a strange sort of magic at that," the wizard answered, opening his eyes. "It grows stronger and stronger the longer I am near it."

"So we'll need to bring it back to the palace right away, right?" Gomamon concluded.

"I'm not sure. I don't know if it's wise for it to leave this village, and yet…," he hesitated briefly. "It would certainly be safer if it did."

"Well, I'm not about to stay here and put the village at risk," Jyou decided. "I'll leave first thing tomorrow."

* * *

The night was quiet, dark, and chilly. A few insects buzzed in the gardens, though not loudly enough to awaken anyone within the palace. The Monochromon murmured and moaned to themselves within their enclosures, and a the spring breezes danced through the clouds, damp with the smell of oncoming rain. Most of the castle's inhabitants slept soundly, undisturbed by the soft sounds of the night.

In a bedchamber that he vaguely remembered surrounded by familiar-feeling things, Daisuke slept fitfully, tossing beneath the heavy covers, his dreams itching at the inside of his mind.

He was floating within a thick, black, liquid-like goop, struggling to move, to swim, to break free of it, but it was sticky and thick and even the slightest movement required a great deal of effort and he was tiring quickly. There was nothing to see but dark gel in every direction, and nothing to hear but muted voices in the distance. When he tried to speak, there was no air, and the black stuff filled his throat and his lungs. He could breathe – or perhaps it was unnecessary in dreams – but he could make no noise.

Suddenly, however, there was a flash of bright light that cut through the thick goop and parted it directly down the middle. From a great distance off, he could hear voices shouting in alarm, but he could not hear their words and the voices were muffled. Daisuke thought to move toward the clear space where the light was, but movement was too difficult and he didn't really have the energy required to fight his way through the black stuff. He could hear the voices more clearly now – they were calling his name, over and over, distant words, but when he tried to shout back he made no noise and swallowed more of the goop.

'_Can't_,' he thought dejectedly, and felt his arms and legs grow limp, his muscles weaken. There was a part of his mind that fought against this, but it, too, was weakened and tired, and slowly fell silent. He thought he could see something in the middle of the empty space, but his eyes, too, were tired, and slowly began to close.

Something grabbed hold of his hand . At first, he thought to pull away from it, and his heart began to beat faster despite the goop that held it down. He realized he was fearful and tried to open his eyes to see, but could not, for the black goop was sticky and heavy and he was weak and tired.

It was a hand, another hand, that had grabbed on to his own, and then he felt another hand on the side of his face and, distantly (for his ears, too, were filled with the liquid) a voice, barely a whisper, speaking his name.

"Daisuke. Come with me."

He was willing, more than willing to leave the black goop, but he didn't know quite how to do so. He tried to speak but his mouth wouldn't move. Before he could further concern himself with this dilemma, however, the hands, firmly gripping his own, grabbed him and pulled him at a fast speed through the black goop – toward the light, toward the empty space.

* * *

The rain was falling steadily, creating a continuous rhythm against the window nearby, almost masking the soft tapping at the door. The tapping continued for a few moments, slowly piercing through the dream-fogged sleep of Daisuke's awareness. He found himself awake, wondering why he was not asleep in the middle of the night, and it was a few moments before he was able to determine that the cause was the tapping. He sat up slowly, still feeling tired, and shuffled through the dark room. A few steps away, he paused, alarmed by the sudden sound of V-mon's loud snore. His partner had apparently not been disturbed.

It was not easy to cross the room in the dark, but he was far too tired to light a candle and the fire had burned out long ago. Daisuke followed the sound of the tapping to the door and then managed to turn the knob.

The brightness of candlelight was too much to bear. He squinted through it for a moment, seeing nothing. He mumbled something without words and then wondered what he had said.

"I'm sorry," said Hikari, on the other side of the bright candle. "Were you sleeping?"

He obviously had been, and she would have to have been very stupid to not figure that out, but Daisuke didn't think either of those things was appropriate to comment on. Instead, mumbled something else without words that sounded vaguely negative, vaguely like 'come in.' He stepped away from the door and Hikari and the candle stepped in.

There was an armchair near the fireplace and Hikari used the candle to light the fire, warming the cold room. As the space warmed, Daisuke became slowly acclimated to the brightness. He sat on the edge of his bed and squinted in her direction until she came into focus and his eyes were not crying out in pain.

"Are you all right?" she asked with some concern. "You look…."

She had trailed off, he guessed, because she didn't want to say something unflattering or insulting, which was likely the only sort of truthful thing that could be said. The unfinished sentence hung in the air for a few minutes before Daisuke interrupted it with a yawn. "Tired?" he finished.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "You were sleeping."

"Not really," he said, managing to be mostly coherent now. "I was dreaming, and I'm glad to be done with it, because it was a tiring dream." He was frowning now, rather severely, as though it had been an unpleasant experience.

Hikari didn't seem to quite know what to say to that. She waited until an appropriate amount of time had passed and then changed the subject. "I couldn't sleep."

Now it was his turn to not quite know what to say. He blinked at her for a few minutes, his mind slowly shifting around possibilities. "Um…," he said finally when nothing else had been said.

She pulled her feet up onto the edge of the chair and hugged her knees to her chest. It was still cold, even though the fire was burning brightly now nearby. "I'm leaving tomorrow," she said after a long moment had passed.

He nodded. "Yes," he agreed. "Takaishi."

"I wanted to make sure you were all right with that," she said then, turning her head to face him. For a moment, he said nothing, staring blankly at her as though she had spoken in a foreign tongue and he had understood none of her words. "Are you?"

He blinked once, and then twice, before he looked away, his eyes resting on a section of the wall above the fireplace. "I don't think you need my permission, princess," he finally answered. His eyes darted back toward her and then toward the floor.

A sigh. "No, not permission. I'm not talking about that," Hikari disagreed. "I'm...I don't know how to explain."

There was a long silence. "You can travel to Takaishi if you wish," he told her. "I certainly won't try to stop you."

"No," she said, shaking her head, "I didn't think you would." She sighed again. "The last time I left you…. I think it might be a good idea for us to be apart for a little while. Perhaps then you…you won't feel the…the spell quite so much." She was watching the flames dance as she spoke, hugging her legs, resting her chin on her knees.

"Last time you…left me?" he echoed, not having heard much more than the beginning of her words. "What - ?"

"You don't remember? No, I don't suppose you would…. I left you, in the forest, when you told me that I should, and then…."

He shook his head almost violently. "Don't, please. Don't blame yourself for this."

"But…."

"I remember," Daisuke interrupted. "Don't blame yourself for this. You're the one who saved me."

"I didn't…," she disagreed. "I would have…I would have let you die. It was Takeru – it was Takeru's idea. If he hadn't spoken up…." She shuddered and hugged herself tighter.

"You can't blame yourself for that," he returned. "There was an illusion."

"I should have known."

"Hikari." He crossed the space between them and crouched before her so that he could meet her eyes. "You place far too much blame on yourself, princess. You are the one who saved me – and I don't mean that day. I'm not sure he would have been willing to kill me – it was a ploy."

"A – but why?"

He shrugged, frowned severely at himself. "I don't know. There are still too many gaps in my memories." A moment of silence passed then. "I think there's somewhere I need to go, too." It was an idea that had just occurred to him at that moment, and the statement surprised him.

It seemed to surprise Hikari as well, for now she stared at _him_ as though he had spoken in a foreign language. "Where - ?" she began, and then shook her head. "No, no. Go where you wish," she said, stopping herself. "Promise me only that you'll be careful. I'd rather you didn't go alone – if it might be dangerous...but…please be careful." Her eyes were sad now, her mind thinking dark and depressing thoughts. She had already thought him dead once – if he were to truly die...no, she couldn't think in that direction.

There was a flash of a mischievous smile in his eyes, an expression that was truly his own. "I am always careful," he answered in a sincere voice, though his eyes betrayed him.

She laughed, a mocking sort of giggle that she swallowed almost before it was out. "You are not," she disagreed, some inner part of her heart feeling a great relief.

He shrugged lightly, not disagreeing, the expression in his eyes saying, secretly, that he knew she spoke the truth. Hikari met his eyes and held his gaze for a few moments until she sensed his discomfort and looked away.

"When you smile," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "When you smile, you seem to be yourself again. I am glad of that."

* * *

Ok, so that's that for this particular chapter. :deep breath, wipes sweat from brow: Hope you all enjoyed. Obviously, I'm not going to _ever_ be finished with this universe, so stay tuned. The next story should begin within a week or so, barring major disasters. I've already started on it, so stay tuned.

Thanks for reading, reviewing, and I hope you all have enjoyed.


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